


It Begins with An End

by opkil



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 47,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opkil/pseuds/opkil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about suicide, sadness and fighting through it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death

I will never forget walking around her coffin. I will never forget how waxen her face looked, beneath the glass of the casket. Her once bright eyes, shut.

Most stories start with a happy beginning. Something hopeful, something generic and cliché. A hopeful teenager singing and prancing around in the mirror, hoping to picked up by Hollywood. A hero with a gigantic sword(obviously overcompensating for something) with a mysterious past, fighting to find out more about himself.

This story doesn’t. It starts with the death of one of the bravest women I’ve ever met in my life, Stephanie. It begins with tragedy, and it kicks off with an abundance of emotions.

That being said…

I’m Aaron, and this is how my tale starts.

___

Stephanie was one of the people I’ve looked up to. A person of absolute vigor, cheeriness, and of love. Steph loved everyone. She was a person who loved to participate and inspire. She loved to teach, she loved to sing. She was a person who understood and accepted concepts of life. Homosexuality, selfishness, sexuality, scat porn, love, hatred.

She understood the world. She just took everything in her stride, and I’ve always felt comfortable telling her things about my life. She was a brilliant person.

Yet she understood so much about the self.

___

I was sitting in the audience. People filled the pews, and the area outside the church, all brimming in to listen to the service. Stephanie’s brother was addressing the audience about how “brilliant she was”.

 _She wouldn’t have died if you told her that, or if you truly felt that way,_ I thought to myself.

Who’s truly at fault when someone takes their life? Is it the fault of their environmental factors? Is it the fault of their friends, family? Is it the fault of mental illness? Or was it truly just a person’s final choice?

Stephanie was a person who knew what to expect of herself. She was a person who understood the self. She chose to pamper herself before helping others. She was not selfish, but she understood that to help a community, one must be in a proper state of mind.

She was a person who kept her worries and tears to herself, and she loved to huddle up in a corner and just read her book.

If she was to take pills and fall asleep, she chose it of her own free will. She was not mentally ill, she was not unstable, but she chose her path. She chose to die. She chose to leave, and I’m supposed to be happy for her. I’m supposed to celebrate that she chose to leave.

It’s an empty thought. I feel betrayed. I feel cheated. I feel so absolutely hollow inside, with a cold chill within.

_“Stephanie is no longer physically with us, but she will always be in our hearts.”_

How delightfully quaint. How ironic. How irritatingly cliché. How so un-Stephanie it was, this whole damned funeral service. She never wanted this, and she would never want for me to suffer from such cliché drivel.

If I had a choice, I would say,

_“Steph was a brilliant woman, and ultimately one of the craziest. She ended her life, and we have to pick the pieces up. Steph, you crazy bitch. I love you, and I will greet you with a smile the next time I see  you.”_

God knows that would have been way more fitting of a speech to give at her service.

I can’t help but to miss her. I can’t help but to feel so much anger. Why did you have to leave, Steph? Why couldn’t you have stayed and carry on with life? Why didn’t your hand shake as you poured the pills out and counted what would have been the Lethal Dose?

Why were you so fucking brave? “The Key is to not be Afraid” your last words were. Irony was in that the words that inspire such bravery in Life, you used to sharpen your will to choose Death.

It ends with me leaving the Church. The rain soaking my back, the wind tousling my hair.

Having to pick up the pieces and continue with my pitiful existence. I have lost a brave ally. A good friend, and a brilliant inspiration.

My story begins with the death of one of the people I loved most in the world, and I walk away.

We have to keep moving.

> _“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”_   
>  _― Anaïs Nin_

-Aaron

-EndChapter1-


	2. Choice

_“Ya know something, Stephanie? The girls and I have always wondered about you.” Said Corrinne. Her usual gang of ‘popular’ girls in her vicinity._

_Stephanie turned absentmindedly. We were packing up to head home. She was not fazed, even though Corrinne was attempting to intimidate her._

_“What about?”_

_Corrinne smiled. Her grin was disconcerting._

_“We’ve always wondered why you hang out with your geek of a boyfriend, and play Pokémon between classes, and during Lunch when you could be hanging out with us.”_

_Corrinne’s words hung in the air for awhile, before Stephanie got out of her seat. Her face flushed red, she stared daggers into Corrinne. Corrinne’s minions were giggling at her reaction._

_“Take that back.”_

_Her voice was soft. She didn’t care if she was outnumbered._

_“Why should I?”_

_Stephanie’s eyes were fixated to Corrinne’s. I couldn’t do a thing._

_“Because…even if Ronnie IS a geek, he’s a good 300 IQ points smarter than the bunch of you. Which is an interesting feat, considering his IQ score is around 122,”_

_She smirked at me. I couldn’t help but laugh. It was clear that Corrinne didn’t get the joke._

_“And also, he’s not my boyfriend. And even if he WAS my boyfriend, he has something that NONE of your meatheaded boyfriends have.”_

_Corrinne was absolutely lost._

_“Which would be?”_

_“A Level 100 Rayquaza.”_

_Stephanie pulled me by the arm out of the classroom._

_I could hear the giggling of Corrinne’s girls, and comments made on how Corrinne was metaphorically ‘burnt’._

________________________________

I woke up. I reached for a tissue. My face was wet from tears. Which is interesting, considering that I don’t remember crying. The worst dreams to have when you’re grieving, is truly not the bad memories. The worst dreams to have in such a situation would be the good ones. The best memories of the person. The best memories SHARED with said person.

Memories can’t be controlled. It isn’t a choice made consciously by me to recall my fondest memories of her.

A person’s life is filled with an innumerable amount of choices.

‘What to eat?’ or ‘What to wear today?’ or ‘What should I say to person A?’.

I’ve been spending the past week answering all those normal questions with ‘I don’t really give a flying fuck.’, And staying home. Skipping classes, and skipping out on work. Skipping out on Life, in general.

I don’t think it’s the right choice, definitely. Yet I don’t honestly want to get out of the house either. What’s the point? The world is a worse place without Stephanie. Without someone like her here. There isn’t much of a reason to make a conscious choice to leave the house to socialise. There isn’t much of a POINT to leave the house.

I decided to at LEAST go into the Kitchen to cook up a meal. It’s been a good day since I last had something to eat, and I haven’t felt the urge or ache to eat anything, for the past week. It was clear that I was eating for the sake of sustenance. For the sake of surviving.

I stirred my instant noodles, and checked my phone as I was doing so.

An insane amount of messages from my friends. Messages of condolence. Messages of ‘how are you doing, bro?’. Messages of vague hints of wanting to keep in touch.

Yeah right. If they were truly my friends, then they wouldn’t be keeping in contact only when a crisis strikes, now wouldn’t they?

‘Oh, I’ve been so busy recently…’

‘Oh, what with the kid on the way, and…’

I’ve literally heard it all. I’m used to such replies. I’m used to getting that.

Part of me GETS it, even. Life catches up on you, and you get other priorities. Part of me however, just hates the whole notion.

Everyone has a choice on how they spend their 24 hours, and no one has ever truly chosen to spend any of those hours with me, save for Stephanie. No one else has CONSCIOUSLY ever wanted to spend any of their time with me.

I choose to ignore the messages. Save for one-from Sandra.

_“Hey Ron, I’m wondering if you’re in the mood to come over. I think it would do you good to see her room again. Maybe help me with the clearing. Please take care of yourself, you’re still part of the family. Love, Sandy.”_

I guess Sandy’s right. I really do want to be in her room again. I only wished that it was with her.

For the first time in 3 days, I changed up and left the house.

_________________________

_Dear Ronnie,_

_I was looking back at our class pictures back in Secondary School, and I’m proud of you for one thing that has changed and grown about you over the years._

_You’re standing up for yourself a lot more than you ever had. You’re being Aaron for the sake of Aaron, and I’m happy that you’re changing to be a person with SOME self-esteem. Women look for more than just brains and brawn, sweetie. Women look for Men who can protect them. Not just physically, either. Women look for Men who can protect them from themselves. Who can stand the hell up to their wives, their girlfriends, their partners._

_It’s the number 1 reason why girls like ‘bad men’ and ‘bad boys’ and ‘jerks’._

_These girls like it when ‘jerks’ can handle a girl. It’s a huge turn-on when a man can tell their woman to shut up when the situation calls for it-which is sad, considering that a majority of such men are wifebeaters, chauvinists and well, jerks!_

_It’s one of those ironies of life. Women look for men who can stand up to them, in a society that’s waking up to gender equality. They make their sons play nice with girls. I think that Auntie had it right when she was raising you…but she had it wrong with your self-esteem!_

_Remember that day when Corrinne told me off for liking your company? If she asked me the same question, I’ll tell her the same thing._

_I know I just said a whole buncha things about standing up for yourself and having confidence in yourself._

_Don’t stop being nice. Don’t stop being…AARON. I just think that sometimes, you should start acting with more balls!_

_Missing you. I can’t wait to see you soon._

_Love,_

_Stephanie._

_______________________________

Everything in the world looks so weird. Looks so different. I don’t understand why, either. It’s literally the same world as it’s always been.

It’s the same exact physical world as it has always been.

I can’t understand how the world can continue moving when my own has shattered so absolutely.

How can those kids still play with their ball so happily? How can that old man continue to play chess with his friend without a care in the whole world? How can the world move on when Stephanie’s dead?

Why hasn’t the bloody world changed one bit, save for the fact that Stephanie will never answer my texts, calls and correspondence, ever again?

I guess one person’s death doesn’t affect the outcome of the world that much. Likewise, one person’s grief doesn’t instantly change the world in a way that is detectable by everyone else. It changes ONE person. It changes how one person looks at the world. It changes how one person CHOOSES to look at the world.

It’s irritatingly true.

I am alone in this grief. I’m the only one who’s lost his best friend. I’m the only one who hates the world. I’m the only one who doesn’t give a damn about what happens to the world.

The path I took was familiar. The path to Stephanie’s family home. It’s been a good year, and for a second, I hoped that I would be seeing her. For a good second, it felt like I was meeting her. Like I was picking her up for one our usual meetings, and we would go to the mall and catch a movie, or something.

The nostalgia hit me like a brick. All those times I stood in front of the door, all those days, gone.

Sandra answered the door, and she hugged me tightly.

“It’s good to come home.” I whispered. I was unsure why I said what I said. I guess that to a part of me, it’s true that Stephanie’s family was like my second family. In a way, Sandra was my elder sister as much as Stephanie was a part of me.

Sandra nodded. Her eyes were red, and it’s obvious that she had been crying. I was wrong about something during my navel-gazing session on my walk over.

I wasn’t alone in my grief.

She invited me into the kitchen.

“Ronnie, Do you want Coffee, or Tea?” she asked.

“Anything stronger?”

Sandra smiled and nodded. Her family was known to have a large collection of liquors. They loved drinking, but oddly enough, you will never see any of them drunk.

“What you in the mood for? Brandy? Whisky?”

“A good scotch?”

Sandra poured it out into a nice glass. I sipped it. If I were to be going through Stephanie’s stuff, I think I’ll want a bit of inebriation in my system. I think that if I went into her room so soon after her death, I think I’ll go insane with the feelings. The guilt, the sadness, the loneliness.

Sandra sat down across from me at the table.

“Do you want to go in?” she asked. Part of me was unwilling, but I nodded. Sandra walked with me into her room.

_____________________________

_“Ma! This is my best friend, Aaron!” Stephanie screamed into the house, as she took her shoes off._

_Stephanie’s Mother walked out and greeted me._

_“Hi, Auntie. I’m Aaron.” I extended my hand awkwardly. Stephanie’s Mother smiled and shook it._

_“Nice to meet you, love! Did Steph kidnap you?” she smiled. The family resemblance was uncanny, and I felt right at home, as if she were my own mother._

_“No, she didn’t, really!” I smiled. “We’re just going to play some video games.”_

_She nodded._

_“You two have fun then.”_

_Steph pulled my arm along. “COME ONNN, RONNIE.”_

_I sighed. She was always pulling me by my arm._

_She opened the door to her room, and pulled me in._

_It smelled of seaspray. On her desk, there were 2 melted candles, blue. The room smelled of her hair, a muted scent, but recognisable. It smelled strongly of HER. She had a bookshelf filled with Video Games and Books. Mostly fantasy, and a bit of romance. And a bit of harlequin romance._

_I picked up one of the few harlequin romance novels._

_“Really, Steph?” I smirked. It was interesting to explore the little facets of a person you never knew before._

_She blushed and snatched the book off my hands._

_“It’s…IT’S CUTE. It’s romance with…traditional gender roles, and…it’s interesting to read…”_

_“Uh…huh.”_

_“Shut…SHUT UP, and stop making fun of me!”_

_It was cute to see her pout like that, funnily enough. It’s one of the few times she’s ever blushed._

______________________________

The familiar scent of seaspray. The yellowed pages of the Harlequin Romance novels on her shelf. Her videogame consoles arranged in neat order.

Very little has changed in her room, and the familiarity is soothing, yet tortuous. I sat at her desk, and I turned to Sandra, who was seated on Stephanie’s bed, and hugging a bolster.

“Why?” I whispered.

Sandra hugged the bolster tightly.

“We think it’s suicide. We all think that she died because she chose to.”

Choice. She chose this path.

“Do you really think so, Sandy?” I asked. I was filled with unexplainable emotions. Anger? Denial? I don’t know. I don’t really believe that Stephanie would kill herself.

Sandra nodded.

“I know it’s hard to believe, Ron. I know it is, but Stephanie was suffering the past few months from everything that’s happened since…since you left.”

There’s the phrase I was dreading. ‘Since you left’. Logically, whether I left or not, it wouldn’t change a thing about how Stephanie does things, and it wouldn’t change what she would do. Emotionally, I knew that had I been around in her life, I could have done something. I could have changed something.

“How? How has she been suffering?”

“She got off a breakup with some one. He was a poisonous man, and I remembered that she was crying about it the other night. He wasn’t at the funeral.”

I froze with rage.

“What did he do.”

It was more a statement than a question.

“Ron…calm down, please.”

“Please tell me, Sandy.”

“His name is Damien, and he’s a musician over at the Oily Spoon. He was a severely emotionally abusive person, from what I can remember Stephanie telling me. They met when Stephanie was there one night.”

The name of the bar seemed familiar.

“Why would she date someone like that?”

“He is a nice guy, I’d suppose. Or so he appears.”

Sandra read my mind in that instant. She knew that I was after answers.

She got up from the bed, and shuffled through the papers on Stephanie’s desk. It was as messy as it’s always been, and she eventually found a ring on a chain.

My Ring.

A simple ring, engraved with the egyptian symbol, an Ankh.

With something different. The inside of the ring was engraved with something since the last time I saw it:

‘The key is to not be afraid.’

It was hauntingly beautiful. The key is to not be afraid.

“She would have wanted you to have it back.” Said Sandy.

The feel of the chain, and the smooth stainless steel of the ring.

“You sure your family would be alright with it?”

She nodded.

“As far as they know, this room doesn’t exist anymore.”

I can understand why. This room will be a permanent reminder of the person who used to reside in it. The smell will never fully go away.

I thanked Sandra.

“Sandy, take care of yourself.” I said. It was ironic, and unnatural, coming out of my mouth. Sandy probably sensed it too.

She hugged me tightly.

“Stay in contact. No matter how brief. We’re your family too.”

I walked out of the house with the ring and her Pokémon game. Sure enough, that Magikarp’s a Gyarados now.

_______________________________________

_“Steph?”_

_“Yeah, Ron?”_

_“Why did you name a Magikarp after me?”_

_For reference, a Magikarp is well known to be one of the worst Pokémon created ever. The only redeeming factor was that it transformed into a Gyarados after numerous battles. One of the most intimidating, and stronger creatures in the game._

_“Because you ARE one. You’re absolutely pathetic.” She teased._

_“That’s unnecessarily mean!” I poked at her stomach, she was sensitive there, and she would get tickled when I poked her there._

_She giggled because of my tickling her._

_“OKAY OKAY STOP!” she caught her breath._

_“I’m waiting for an answer, buttmunch.”_

_“It’s because you’re a Magikarp.”_

_I threatened to tickle her again. She flinched._

_“I MEAN IT IN A POSITIVE WAY.”_

_“Oh really?”_

_“You remember how we first met, and you were all meek and a total pushover?”_

_I cringed. I’m not particularly proud of how I used to be._

_“Continue…”_

_“Well, you’re growing, and soon, you’ll be a Gyarados, one of the manliest Pokémon alive!”_

_It made sense. It was a cute ego-boost._

_“Though it doesn’t stop you from being beaten up by Butterfree and Beautifly and Beedril in the early game, you’ll be a worthy partner for the rest of the journey, and that’s why a Magikarp reminds me of you.”_

_I smiled._

__________________________

I arrived at the Oily Spoon, and instantly, I recalled why the name seemed so familiar back when Sandy told me about it. Stephanie and I had been here together once. It was one of our first times going drinking, upon turning 18, and I remembered that the band here was pretty good.

Of course, Stephanie managed to drink me under the table.

The band started playing, and according to the bartender, Damien was the vocalist.

Their music was good. It was very Rock, with very good vocals. I kept my temper in check, the music was good. It was about finding a new life, it was about how a Phoenix is reborn.

Interesting lyrics.

“ _The Phoenix burns up_

_And arises again._

_I don’t know what to do._

_I’m afraid of burning up._

_Because I am afraid of rising again._

_I don’t know how to change it._

_I don’t know how to guarantee._

_If I will be brave enough to fly_

_Even after dying.”_

After that, their act was done. It was a good half hour, and after finishing off a Martini, I went to the back and asked to speak to Damien.

The barmaid directed me to Damien’s changing room, of sorts.

I knocked the door, and he answered.

“Hi, you are?” He asked sheepishly, extending a hand.

“I’m Aaron.”

I shook his hand. He seemed to be nervous, but he welcomed me into the room.

His face filled with recognition. And after some hesitation, he offered me a seat.

“Why did you break up with her?”

My voice echoed in the small room. I felt myself fill with rage. Anger.

“I broke up with her, because she didn’t love me.” Said Damien.

I snorted.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“It’s TRUE. She didn’t love me as much as she loved YOU.”

Those words cut into me.

“She chose to be by your side. She loved me because of the years I’ve spent as her best friend. She chose you. Why didn’t you live up to that?”

I accused.

“I had no choice in the matter, Aaron. She always would have looked to you for advice, and she would always love you, more than she would love me.”

I punched Damien in the face with all the force I could muster. With all the anger and hatred in the world. How dare he say something like that.

He didn’t flinch, he didn’t try to catch my fist. He didn’t resist.

“Everyone has a choice, Damien. The key to making a choice is to not be afraid, and go through with it, for better or for worst.”

Damien started tearing up.

“I didn’t go for the service because everyone there would blame me for her dying.”

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault. She chose to die.”

I opened the door.

“Damien. The phoenix arises after it burns into cinders.”

I left.

____________________________________

I am alone at home, and I wonder if punching Damien in the face would have changed anything.

I picked up the framed photo of Stephanie and I, at graduation.

“I miss you, Steph.”

I cried tears of frustration and anger, and guilt. Some sadness too.

I could have sworn, I heard her whisper back.

“I miss you too, Aaron.”


	3. Love me, Please.

Life goes on. I wake up and blind myself from the morning sun. That irritating sting of light onto a pair of early morning photo-sensitive eyes. I get changed and brush my teeth in the mirror. I get out of the house and back to work. I get out of work and get back home to read, or to watch TV, or to waste my time on Video Games. The night where I punched Damien seemed so long ago.

I’ve taken to wearing Stephanie’s ring on a chain around my neck. Wherever I went.

That’s the cycle and how it’s been for 2 weeks, until the start of the third week. I got a call from my girlfriend.

 

“Aaron? We need to talk.” Said Summer.

The worst words to hear from your girlfriend.

 

“Alright. Where shall we meet?”

 

“We can meet for dinner, I suppose?”

 

“Yeah. Sure.”

 

I couldn’t be bothered. I honestly cannot be bothered anymore with Summer. I don’t know why. I don’t think it’s any fault of hers, I just don’t feel ready. I don’t feel like I’m in any mental or emotional state to be responsible in loving another human being. I don’t feel like I’m ready whatsoever. I don’t feel that it’s right for Summer to worry about me, and me barely replying to her texts.

 

I guess that we need to break up.

_______________________

 

Summer and I have been dating for a couple of months. We met about a month after I stopped hanging out with Stephanie, and we’ve been dating for the past year or so. I honestly didn’t see much of a future in our relationship, but she was a close friend. I guess you could say that she was a replacement for Stephanie. She was someone who filled the gaps that Stephanie had left behind when we stopped being friends.

Summer honestly didn’t deserve this treatment, but I loved her. She was a very different person from Stephanie. A different fire, a wildfire. She was an extremely reckless person who loved parties, she was someone who loved doing the crazy things I felt uncomfortable doing. Yet, I realised that I needed that zing. I needed someone like Summer to pull me along my listlessness, and my usual awkward shuffle through life.

Or the other hand, Summer needed an anchor. She needed a fire-extinguisher for her wildfire. She needed someone to hold her back lest she started a barfight. She needed someone ‘boring’ of sorts(like me), to balance out her fierce independence and insanity.

She was the lead dancer in our tango, and ironically, I was the one to stop the dancing. I was the one to stop the music, and I guess that it’s better now, than later. It’s better I stopped caring, or loving for anyone. It’s better I broke up with Summer than to drag this along so much more and hurt her even worst later on, when she realises that I am currently in no proper state of mind to carry her along or to support her emotionally like I used to.

 

I guess that the reason why I want out is that I can’t provide what she needed. I want out because she didn’t help me out, even when I’m screaming for help. I can’t blame anyone for that, because at the very end, I truly was a jerk.

I can’t blame her. Few would have be able to take my grief. She did give me the space I needed, and I am appreciative of that. I have been so focused inwardly, and been so concerned about self-preservation, I don’t think I’m cut out on caring about someone else right now.

And in doing that, I somehow managed to repel her. Another person I loved, and who reciprocated that. I manage to repel so many people in such a short amount of time, it’s incredible, really.

 

I got changed, and left the house to meet her up. She deserves to be broken up with and she deserves a life without this broken husk of a man.

_______________________

 

_Dear Ronnie,_

 

_I’ve been dating Damien for 3 months now, and I think I’m breaking down._

_He’s so emotionally stunted. So absolutely emotionally stunted that he just hurls abuse at me when his gigs don’t work out, when his singing just doesn’t work, or when he can’t think of a good set of lyrics._

_I can’t blame him, he’s had such a bad childhood. I just wished that whenever I bring it up to him, he wouldn’t be so despondent and just LISTEN and MAN UP to me. I just wished that, he was…more…YOU. More of a person who knew WHEN to back down and when to STAND up. It just gets so utterly frustrating sometimes, I really wished someone would PUNCH HIM in the face. He’s such a dick at times, and such a sweetie other times, I don’t understand how that works._

 

_I really wished you were here with me. We would usually sleep over, and bitch about how much we hated our partners (remember that year I dated Lisa? I can’t believe I did it!) and how much we loved them. It just feels weird to be dating again without you with me by my side._

_…Though, without you around, most of the guys I get are less intimidated, for better or for worst._

_I remember you managed to scare one of those delinquent types just by your presence alone. That was when you first finished your Black Belt syllabus for Karate, remember that? You were like the immigrations officer in charge of the state of “Stephanie-ville”, and DAMN you were effective at that!_

 

_I’m still sorry for being such a controlling bitch, Aaron. I wish you were here with me._

 

_Love,_

_Stephanie._

________________________

 

“So, how have you been?” I asked Summer, awkwardly, twiddling the ring on my neck.

 

“I’ve been good. My new job’s doing awesome, and the boss seems nice.”

 

I nodded. It was clear that the whole ‘We need to talk’ thing was still looming.

 

We walked into the Central Park.

 

“You’re not particularly hungry, are you?” I asked Summer again.

 

She shook her head. We walked a bit before sitting down on a bench.

 

“We need to talk, don’t we?” said Summer.

 

“It’s pretty obvious, huh.”

 

“Aaron, we need to break up.”

 

I nodded slowly.

 

“We do.”

 

I didn’t know what to do. I was prepared to break up with this girl, not half an hour ago, and now that she’s stated what I’ve wanted to say, before I said it…

I don’t know why I feel how I feel. I don’t know why it suddenly hurt. Realisation, perhaps? That we would not longer be calling each other nauseating pet names, or hugging, kissing?

 

“Aaron, we can still remain friends.”

 

Fuck that. NO ONE can remain friends with their ex. NO ONE can properly say with a straight face, that they can be proper friends with their ex. NO ONE would EVER want to hang out with their ex, especially not so immediately after a break up.

 

“I call bullshit.” I said.

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“I’m sorry, Summer. We can’t be friends. We’re breaking up, and this is the end of it.”

 

“But why?”

 

“Because you were never my friend. You couldn’t take it when Steph died, and when I needed you most, you took your leave and chose to step aside and let me take it all alone.”

 

“I tried to call you! How is that not being a friend?”

 

“Because that was the bare minimum. The bare minimum that a friend would do to ensure the safety of a person. To ensure that they’re getting through their own grief at a healthy pace. Leaving a message would be enough.”

 

“Then what’s the problem?”

 

My face was burning up. Flushing red with anger, fury. The reversal of roles was interesting. For once, I was leading a conversation. I was leading something in our relationship, and it was interesting.

 

“I wanted to share my life with you. I was intending to share my world with you, and you just left when I was going to show you the dark parts of my life. I can’t trust someone who would run away from me like that, especially when all I needed was a shoulder to lean on.”

 

I got off the park bench and locked my eyes on hers.

 

“I wish you the very best in your endeavors, Summer. I really do. Except that right now, I am as cold as winter. I am a person who doesn’t trust YOU. I don’t trust you to carry me when I need you, because you failed.”

 

“You’re wrong, Ronnie. You’re just so bloody selfish you don’t see that it hurt for me to see you fall like that.”

 

Silence filled the air. The crickets chirped as the sun slowly set.

 

“Do you really think I WANTED to see you hurt? You were just so swallowed up by your own grief, you totally forgot that I gave you space because you’ve always said you appreciated being alone for your battles. How was I supposed to react?”

 

I had no reply.

 

“Before you fucking make another statement of how YOU feel, bloody consider WHY I couldn’t bear to shoulder this burden with you. I’m not mentally stable, and I have my own issues as well. Seeing you pine over your dead ex? It plays with a woman’s confidence. It just absolutely FUCKS with a lady’s self-esteem, and it just gets COMPOUNDED when you realise that NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU FUCKING TRY, YOU WILL NEVER **EVER** BLOODY BE ABLE TO COMPARE TO HER.”

 

I still had no reply. She left.

 

Another person I repelled.

______________________

I slowly walked out of the park, tearing up.

Everyone I love is repelled by my very existence, and I just repelled one more. Steph died, and Summer left. I don’t have anyone else left, and for once, I don’t think I have any ties left to this place.

I don’t have much of a reason to continue on for a good while, and it hurts to realise that.

 

I walked home from the park, a good 15 minutes walk. I bought soup, and a sandwich from a diner, and I got back home.

 

I turned on the TV for the night’s horrendous news about murder, rape and the world at large. I opened the container for my sandwich, and I realise that I don’t trust the world anymore.

I’ve made the full change into someone so utterly jaded, so utterly lost.

 

I cleared up the mess from my dinner.

 

I brushed my teeth, and I headed to bed.

The chain and ring, cold on my body.

____________________

 

_“I’m nervous, Ronnie.” Said Stephanie._

 

_I hugged her._

 

_“I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just sing like you normally would.”_

 

_It was her first gig at the Greasy Napkin, as an independent singer, and she was nervous. She got a deal with the Greasy Napkin to sing once a week, and she was glad to take it. She’s never been paid for it, until the manager said that she liked Stephanie singing whenever she was here for Karaoke Night._

_She carried her guitar up to the stage, and she tapped the microphone a few times. She sat on the stool, and strummed her acoustic guitar a few times._

 

_“Hi everyone, my name is Stephanie, and I’ll be performing songs about Loving, Being Hurt, and Being Loved. This is my first gig EVER, being a Singer, and I just wanted to take this time to thank my partner, Aaron.”_

 

_Some light applause. ‘Partner’? I smirked at her, and she winked at me. The bright lights of the stage lit her up. Her smile lit the audience up, and it was clear that she got the interest of the people, tired and weary from their long days at work._

 

_“This first song is about hurting the ones we love, and how you wish you could take the pain away. How you wish you could cure the wounds of someone else, even if it means taking them into yourself. It’s a personally done cover of the song, ‘Running Up that Hill’ by Placebo.”_

 

_She started strumming._

 

 _“_ It doesn’t hurt me.

You wanna feel how it feels?”

 

_She kept her eyes on me, smiling the whole way._

 

“You wanna know, know that it doesn’t hurt me?

You wanna hear about the deal I’m making?

You be running up that hill

You and me be running up that hill”

 

_Her voice was so beautiful. Calming, even._

 

“And if I only could,

Make a deal with God,

And get him to swap our places,

Be running up that road,

Be running up that hill,

Be running up that building.

If I only could, oh…”

 

_She was tearing up. It was beautiful. Her tears shimmered, and she finished her song._

_The applause was amazing, and it was clear that she did fulfill one of her lifelong dreams- To be able to reach another human being with the power of her voice, with the power of song and music. It was such an amazingly good vibe._

 

_The applause died down, as she spoke into the microphone again._

 

_“This next song, is about taking chances. Now, gentlemen, I’m going to teach you something tonight-“_

_She winked at me._

_“Women love it when you take the chance. Not always, of course not. I don’t mean having unprotected sex early on in a new relationship. I mean just taking your balls and approaching a woman, no matter how bloody scared you are, how nervous you are. I mean just kissing someone who’s been giving you a good vibe the whole night. I mean TAKING A CHANCE and ignoring all your inhibitions.”_

 

_She started strumming her song._

 

How oblivious can you be, babe.

How many hints are enough for you?

I’m just another girl with issues.

 

I’m just another girl afraid of love.

You’re just another boy-

Talking to much for their own good.

 

So shut up and kiss me already.

Shut up and kiss me already!

Shut up, and kiss me already!!

 

_She finished it and winked at me again. What did she mean by that?_

_She played for another few songs, and that was it for the night. I met her backstage in her dressing room of sorts._

 

_“THAT was brilliant, Steph!”_

 

_She rubbed the make up off her face, and dabbed some makeup remover onto her face. I plopped down onto the sofa._

 

_“You think so, sweetie?”_

 

_I nodded._

 

_“ALL THOSE FEELS, Steph. You were on fire! Did you SEE yourself? The audience absolutely loved you, and they were just like putty in your hands!”_

 

_She got up and sat with me on the sofa._

 

_“Aaron, we’ve known each other for a near decade already, right?”_

 

_She looked at me. Her hair tousled from her performance, her eyes a shade of hazelnut from her contact lenses. There was something more._

 

_She reached over and gave me a kiss, and I reciprocated._

_My hands found her waist, and hers my neck._

_We kissed again. And again._

 

_She pulled away and smiled._

 

_“Do you want to? Try?” asked Stephanie._

 

_“I…I’m not comfortable with this, Steph.”_

 

_Her eyes told the story of her own fear. It flashed so briefly, but so clearly._

 

_“I understand…”_

 

_I held her tightly._

 

_“I love you, Steph. I really do, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to date. I don’t EVER want to lose you, and dating you might mean that we lose each other forever, after we break up.”_

 

_“It doesn’t have to end that way.”_

 

_“I don’t want to try, Steph. I’m sorry.”_

 

______________________________________

 

I woke up with a jolt. I was tearing up, and I didn’t understand why. I don’t understand why my own subconscious would torture me with one of my favourite moments of my time with Stephanie. I don’t understand why I would feel like this, so long since it’s happened.

 

I got off my bed, and I went into the kitchen to pour myself some brandy. I sat down in the living room, and took my ring off the chain.

It was custom made, and I got it for myself so many years ago. It was a simple ring, with the egyptian symbol of Life. The key of life, and I have always had an affinity with it. I felt that it kept me safe in a certain way, and I was happy to have it back.

 

The addition to it was an engraving on the inside. “The Key is to not be afraid.”

An engraving probably called for by Stephanie.

 

I put it on my ring finger. It fit exactly how it had always done.

 

Back then, I would put it on, and prayed for my life. I would pray to be blessed and for the strength to become a better person. The ring signified so much about me, and how I always wished for my life to be much better.

 

I closed my eyes and said aloud.

 

“I wished you were still here.”

 

The wind from the window seemed to get stronger, though subtly so.

I opened my eyes, and I saw Stephanie. She was smiling at me, and she had a slight glow about her. Her hair still chest nut. Her smile as bright as it’s always been.

 

“Steph…?” I said. Was it really her?

 

“Ronnie.” She replied.

 

“Are you really Stephanie?”

 

She walked over and hugged me. I couldn’t feel a true physical sensation of a hug, but it was good. I was happy to see her again. I felt a gigantic warmth emanating from my heart. I felt as if everything was okay again. I felt as if I had my best friend back. I felt myself cry. I felt my eyes welling up with tears. So many tears.

I held her, and I cried for a while. All the while, she stroked my hair.

 

“Steph, I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay, Ron.” She said, calming me down.

 

This was wrong. How could Stephanie be back from the dead? The dead shouldn’t be able to walk among the living. It was scientifically impossible.

I looked at the ring. The ankh was glowing with a light. Could it be?

 

Yet I couldn’t really care about HOW this was happening. I really couldn’t understand why I was so apathetic to the means. I only cared about one thing, and one thing-

Stephanie was back.

 

“Steph. Please don’t leave me again. Please don’t go away.”

 

“I will eventually have to leave, Aaron. You can only see me because of the ring. You can only see me because of the power of the ring, and the ankh. When you take it off, I will disappear.”

 

She held me, then continued.

 

“Aaron, I will always be with you, and until you feel strong enough…I will be with you. I will always be wherever you are, and I will always appear with the power of the ring.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Until the day you’re strong enough, I will be with you.”

 

______


	4. Lost...

It’s bizarre living life as is right now. I lost my best friend of nearly a decade to a suicide. I broke up with my girlfriend barely a week ago. That just sounds depressing, right? Nothing bizarre about a guy who loses most of his emotional support in 2 months.

 

What’s bizarre is that…I’m now hanging out with the ghost of said deceased best friend.

 

Through the week, I find out a few things about how the ring supposedly worked:

 

1) _It doesn’t grant wishes._

Apparently, the power of the ring is restricted to pulling back Stephanie. For good reason, I suppose. The Ankh probably has something to do with it. The symbol of Life seems fitting for a symbol to pull a person back from the dead, in any capacity.

 

2) _Stephanie appears instantaneously when I put the ring on._

Stephanie appears as if she were there the whole time the ring was off. However, I can’t seem to understand HOW she appears.

 

3) _Stephanie doesn’t always appear._

She doesn’t always appear, and it seems to be gauged based on how I was feeling. If I were in class, being bored, she doesn’t appear. If I were at home feeling lonely, she appears. There seems to be something behind it about my need for her. My need for company, of sorts.

 

4) _Touching the ring in general summons her._

Putting the ring on was not the only way to see her. I could summon her by merely touching the ring. I need to touch it with a body part and mean to summon her. It only works when I wish for her to appear and I touch it.

 

5) _I get headaches from summoning her._

I think it drains me of my energy, I get bad headaches for a while after summoning her and talking to her. I suppose that having her around somehow manages to drain the energy of whoever’s wearing the ring, and I guess that was to be expected. Considering this was ‘magic’ of sorts.

 

I know this sounds rather crazy, and I am led to believe that I really don’t think I’m sane anymore. What sane person is able to talk to the ghost of their dead friend?

 

“Steph, HOW did you come back?” I said aloud one night.

 

She shrugged.

 

“I just did. I saw a light, and I saw you on the other side, and I stepped into it.”

 

That didn’t help much, nor explain anything. I’m still lost as ever, but I really can’t complain. I know it’s mentally unhealthy to be chatting with your dead best friend so normally like that. I know that somewhere, a part of me knows that talking to a dead person like this is not normal.

I honestly don’t care. I feel good now that Stephanie’s back, in whatever capacity. It feels good to have her back, and I love having her around again. I don’t want her to go, and it feels like an enormous weight has been lifted off my heart.

 

_________________

 

_Dear Ronnie,_

 

_I know this is random, but if I’m ever found dead before you are,(face it, everyone knows that the amount you drink in a week is enough to pickle an elephant!) I’ll be haunting you._

_I will stalk you like a crazed stalker, and I will prank you like an evil poltergeist! I will be there to make sure that you never forget that I died._

 

_Yet among all that, when I die, I will be with you for as long as you need be, before I move on. I will be by your side until the day you die and join me too._

_Yeah, I’m a morbid person, what’s new?_

 

_Death is such a taboo subject in our society, and I honestly don’t see a reason why. People die, people live. People will eventually die, and it is an eventuality! We are literally living, ticking, emotional time bombs, aware that we will eventually die, aware that a dead body in a coffin will be our fate, yet everyone lives on with hope that we can dodge it. People drink and eat medicines, drugs and ‘elixirs’ in an effort to prolong their lives. The Chinese brew soups for increasing lifespans. Businessmen look for ways to enlarge their businesses and eventually hope to pass it on to their progeny._

 

_Death is an inevitability for us bags of flesh, and I hope that one day, you will eventually find it in yourself to detach that death is not THE END of things. Death is never the end._

_Death might be the first step towards the birth of something new._

_Everything we’ve ever known, it begins with an end._

 

_Life is beautiful, Ronnie. Death is equally as such, in a way._

_And I hope that you will be able to understand that, and I hope that this particular letter would be a good gauge of how much I love the idea of beginnings and finales._

 

_You’re one of my best friends, and I would hate to see you go. I would hate to say goodbye._

 

_So when I die, I will just whisper words to you and to you only. My final words will be heard by no one but you, and I would love it that way. I would love for you to be the only living soul to know my final words._

 

_Love,_

_Steph._

____________________

 

Recently, I’ve taken to visiting the Oily Spoon, be it out of habit, or out of the yearning for some alcohol, or for some semblance of human contact that wasn’t Stephanie.

It’s gotten to the point that the staff recognise me, and sitting on the bar and talking to the bartender wasn’t uncommon. It was an interesting reputation to have, as “the dude who punched out Damien”. Apparently, Damien wasn’t a particularly popular singer amongst the staff in the first place, and they were glad that someone managed to punch him, even if it was isolated to the dressing room.

What happened after I punched Damien, was that he ran out of the room with a bleeding nose, and he was crying. I honestly feel sorry for the guy. He did suffer from my rage at how he treated Stephanie, but Stephanie wouldn’t have been impressed. I have yet to talk to her about Damien, but knowing her and her bleeding heart, I would have gotten a chewing out for punching him.

 

Recently, the Oily Spoon hired a new singer. A girl, around my age, with ebony black hair, with a tinge of red near her fringe. Her eyes were piercing, yet surprisingly captivating.

She would perform in the evening, at around the same time I would come into the bar for my dinner. I would get the House Special (usually a burger of sorts), and I would take a seat at one of the booths to watch her sing.

 

She had an interesting aura to her. Warm, calming, soothing, yet mysterious as the night. There was something about her that hinted about a dark past. Something about her seemed melancholic. Contemplative, as if she was a person of delicacy and patience.

 

For some reason, her songs would usually fit my mood. Songs by Garbage, original compositions strummed along to her singing. Yet surprisingly, she had a certain bubbly feel about her. She would always interact with the audience, and she would take requests for songs she felt comfortable singing.

It lent a welcoming, homey air to the Oily Spoon, and for the duration of her songs, I would feel warm. I would forget how broken of a person I was, and for a while, I would feel whole. I would feel so much better about things, that I sometimes lose myself, looking at her. I catch myself looking at her, and she smiles every time.

I suppose I come across creepy. She smiles, but I’m sure that she’s wondering why the creep’s staring at her. Then she winks.

 

___________________

 

Breathe in, Breathe out, Andrea. You can do this!

 

I know it’s odd, considering that I’ve performed so much over the years, but getting up on stage and singing in a bar never gets any less scary. The stage fright. The whole “What if the audience hates what I sing!?” phobia. The fear that you get pelted at by fruit and eggs.(I’ve never observed that being done, but it’s such a recurrent trope, you can’t help but to fear that you are THAT BAD of a performer, that some people manage to throw their produce at you.)

 

My twin brother would usually be here to cheer me on. He would usually go “calm down, ReRe. You can do it.” Or “MAN UP, galfriend. You can do it!”. I sometimes wished he were still here, but I can’t exactly wish for the impossible. What I can do, is remember what Benjy would say.

“ _When you’re down, ReRe, just sing a song. Sing a song, because of how you feel. When you sing a song, you expend all your emotions into your voice, and you project it onto your audience! Your voice dictates how the audience cries, laughs and smiles_.”

He was a brilliant man, Benjamin. There isn’t a day that goes by without me missing him.

They say that twin siblings usually know how the other feels. Twins usually just understand and empathises with the other easily. Benjy was always the elder one. The one who guided me.

 

I would then get up on the stage, seat myself in a stool, and strum my guitar. I would test the microphone, like how Benjy taught me, and I would sing my heart out. I would sing songs that were on my mind. That was how it has always been, and how I’ve always performed. Except that it’s no longer with Benjamin.

I guess that was the perk of being hired by the Oily Spoon’s owner personally. One of my Dad’s closest siblings, Uncle Joe. He found out that I had recently moved into the area. Dad must have given him a way to contact me, and I guess he liked my singing enough to offer me a part-time job at night.

I’m not complaining. I get free food, free booze, and I get to sing to my heart’s content.

 

And apparently, I have a fan who seems to appear every night to watch me play, and it makes me smile to know that I have such a stalker-fan-guy. He looks cute, and he seems to enjoy drinking Whisky.

 

Yes, yes, I know that I’m in a BAR, after all. He’s probably some kind of creep, right?

Yet Uncle Joe seems to be nice with him, and the bar stories are that he managed to punch out my predecessor after one his gigs. I would usually be apprehensive when Uncle Joe tells me a story like that. I abhor the mere idea of violence, and I would usually call a person out for beating and wailing on someone else.

Unless the victim was a total jerk. And according to Uncle Joe, the previous singer was an enormous tool. So I guess that justifies it?

 

This dude, however, has a certain air about him. A sad, melancholic air. Yet he seems healthy enough to enjoy my music and lock his eyes on mine. He seems happy enough to enjoy my music, and I guess, that’s why I chose my next song. One of my favourite songs.

 

I start playing Garbage’s ‘Tell Me Where it Hurts’.

 

“ _Tell me where it hurts and to hell with everybody else_

_All I care about is you and that’s the truth_

_They don’t love me, I can tell_

_But you do, so they can go to hell”_

 

I think that seemed to be the best song to heal this cute, geeky boy. Even if for just 2 minutes, I love this song. I love singing songs like these. I know that even if my music is a small salvation, people enjoy it.

 

The applause never gets old. The ego boost from a crowd. The feeling of people enjoying what you do, and the feeling of being able to invoke such emotion with the people.

 

CuteGeek smiled at me, and I could see him crying a bit. It was so heartbreakingly sad, that I continued into another calming song. The quintessential “you’re going to be fine, I’m here!” song, Wonderwall.

 

_“Today was gonna be the day_

_But they’ll never throw it back to you_

_By now you should’ve somehow_

_Realized what you’re not to do_

_I don’t believe that anybody_

_Feels the way I do, about you now_

 

_And all the roads that lead you there are winding_

_And all the lights that light the way are blinding_

_There are many things that I_

_Would like to say to you but I don’t know how_

 

_I said maybe, you’re gonna be the one that saves me_

_And after all, you’re my wonderwall”_

 

CuteGeek just couldn’t stop smiling. I love seeing my audience smile. I love making people smile just from the sheer power of music, and I think that I will approach THIS particular fan later!

 

________________________

 

“Thank you everyone. I’m Andrea, and I hope that you enjoyed my performance tonight!”

 

The applause was deafening, and it was surprising how a small audience of about 30 could generate such a racket from sheer clapping and cheering.

 

I went back to the remnants of my fries, and my 3rd Whisky. It was just like Joe to cut mine a little with some cola as it got later.

“It’s so you can get back home, Ron! You should really be taking care of yourself.”

 

I guess I appreciate the gesture. Joe was a good guy. One of the best bartenders I’ve ever met, and he truly does care for his customers, and I guess that’s one of the reasons I keep coming back to the Oily Spoon.

 

Suddenly, one of my fries gets stolen.

 

I look up to find the source of the french-fry thief, and it was the singer from tonight, Andrea.

 

“Excuse me, those were my fries…?” I was more amused than angry.

 

She sat down across me in the booth.

 

“I know.”

She smirked.

 

“Are you always this obnoxious with your fans?”

 

“So, you’re a fan then?”

 

She stole another fry.

 

I shrugged, and smiled.

 

“I admit that you sing really well. I love your voice.”

 

“Do you always have a stick up your butt, cutie? It takes you that long to compliment me?”

 

I don’t know why, but this banter was really fun. I loved this back and forth. I grimaced at her, and introduced myself.

 

“I’m Aaron.”

 

I offered my hand. She shook it and smiled. There was just something about her eyes that seemed so inviting. So comfortable? Would that be the word to describe this? I felt right at home with her, as if I’ve known her for years.

 

“So, Aaron. I noticed that you were by yourself. You usually are. Don’t you have a ‘best bro’ or something?”

 

I shook my head.

 

“Nah. I just enjoy being by myself.”

 

Not technically untrue. I do enjoy being with myself, as of recent, at the very least.

 

“Tell me where it hurts, and to hell with everybody else.” She sang to me. She smiled and stole yet another fry.

 

“Don’t they PAY you with free food or something? And no thank you, I really don’t feel comfortable about talking about ‘where it hurts’ with people I’ve barely known for a week, Andrea. No offense.”

 

She snatched up a napkin from the serviette dispenser, and she took out a pen. She then scribbled numbers on it, and passed it to me.

 

“Then, you will call me and we will hang out, and then you would have known me for more than a week. I’m free weekends!”

 

She got up and walked into the back rooms. She returned in a minute, with a cheery grin.

 

“On a side note, I have a huge craving for Pancakes. So, maybe we’ll meet somewhere with Pancakes.”

 

“Would Waffles do?”

 

“Preferably not.”

She pursed her lip, and left.

 

I paid my bill, and I walked home.

It has admittedly been one of the better nights in recent months.

 

I’m lost, but for a while, I think I’ll be fine.

 

______________________

 

“Uncle Joe? What is Aaron like?”

 

He stroked his beard, before answering.

 

“A nice guy. He is, but he’s gone through a lot in the past few months.”

 

I nodded.

 

“I think that much is obvious, but WHAT exactly happened?”

 

“He doesn’t really talk about himself all that much. The most I squeezed out of him was the night he got totally wasted, and I let him sleep upstairs, and he starting crying, and calling out for a girl named Stephanie. My guess is that she was his ex-girlfriend or something, and that he got dumped pretty badly.”

 

Uncle Joe poured himself a whisky and took a sip.

I couldn’t help but stay silent and contemplate. Aaron was such an interesting person. He’s also broken on the inside, and I want to help him.

 

“What’s the matter, sweetie?”

 

“I just think that he’s a nice guy.”

 

Uncle Joe walked to the bar and poured me a light beer. He nodded.

 

“The gentle ones usually fall the hardest.”

 

It was sad. Aaron was truly a nice guy. And just like that, I was sucked into finding out more about his story, and who he was. Who Aaron was.

 

_______________________

 

“She seems nice, Ronnie.” Said Stephanie.

 

“You think so?”

 

“Mmhm! She sings beautifully, and she seems to be able to sass you into stealing half your fries, and anyone who can do that has my respect.”

 

Stephanie smirked at me.

 

“I didn’t think you could even see what was going on.”

 

“Of course I can, sweetie. I can see anything that the ring sees.”

 

“Should I call her?”

 

“Why not? She seems nice. She seems to be hiding something though.”

 

Steph had a point. Andrea seemed to be hiding something beneath all her appearences. People usually hide behind such personas. People hide many secrets beneath a smile, and I suppose that Andrea has her own share of demons.

 

“Steph? It begins with an end, right?”

 

Stephanie nodded, and smiled.

 

“Everything begins with an end, and with Summer leaving you and me dying, You have earned the right for a new twist to your life. You have earned the right to be able to start anew with a new story.”

 

“But what if I don’t deserve this chance?”

 

I was truly concerned about that possibility. What if I truly didn’t deserve this fresh start? What if I fucked this up again?

Stephanie held me.

 

“You will always deserve a new chance and a fresh start. Remember, sweetie. The key is to not be afraid.”

 

Stephanie disappeared. I took the ring off and put it back around my neck, and I smiled.

 

The key to this, is to not be afraid, and I suppose that I should give it a shot.

 

I’ll lose myself if I didn’t try to get up. If I didn’t try to change.

I will never have the right to complain about being a bad person if I never attempt to become a better one.

 

I want a true reason to be found again.

 

_________________


	5. Broken.

_Summer hugged her legs._

 

_“I will never be good enough.” She said simply._

 

_She had woken up in the middle of the night and screamed, and immediately called me._

 

_“Aaron, I need you now.” Was all she said on the phone._

_We had just started dating, so I drove over to her place and entered. I had found her tear-stained and in hysterics. I hugged her on sight, and I held her close. It was clear that she needed someone. It was clear that most of all, she wasn’t as independent as she had originally  shown herself to be._

 

_She walked back into her bedroom._

 

_I poured myself a glass of water from the kitchen and joined her in her room. She curled up and hugged her legs as she was telling me the reason why she suddenly got violent nightmares. It had been going on for years, ever since her parents got a divorce. She has always feared being alone, and she has always had a true fear of never being good enough. And there would constantly be no one there to comfort her. Summer would cry herself to sleep, and she eventually moved out of her Mom’s house when she left for college._

 

_“Aaron, I love you, but I don’t think I can ever be good enough. I truly don’t think that I will ever be the person who deserves your love, care, and concern. I don’t think I can ever be strong enough for you or for anyone.”_

 

_I stayed silent and sipped on my water. I put my glass down and held her._

 

_“You are.”_

 

_“Except that I’m not. I keep thinking and hoping to myself that I will eventually become a better person. A person who would be good enough to deserve love and to love back. A person who wouldn’t cause their parents to get a divorce. A person who deserves the happiness at the end of the sorrow and pain.”_

 

_I stayed silent._

 

_“I…really want to believe you, but I don’t deserve you. I don’t think I will ever find a happiness that I would be willing to preserve, and be willing to become stronger for. I’m not pretty, I’m not smart, I’m not even emotionally stable, Ronnie, and I think that you should find someone else totally.”_

 

_I held her tighter, brushed her fringe to the side gently, and kissed her on the forehead._

 

_“Summer, I know this is hard to believe, but I love you. You are worth every single second and moment of my time, and I love you.”_

 

_I took a tissue and wiped her tears gently off her face._

 

_“You are more than good enough for me. Maybe even too good for me, some times.”_

 

_She stayed silent and stopped crying._

 

_“Do you really mean that, or are you just comforting me?”_

 

_“A little from column A, a little from column B.”_

 

_I held her tighter._

 

_“You mean a lot to me, Summer, and I’ll be by your side when you need me most.”_

 

_“Promise?”_

 

_“Promise.”_

 

_________________________________

 

The worst dreams to wake up from are the ones you remember so vividly and where you remember being the best you can ever be to someone. Maybe a dream where you held a crying person and comforted them. Maybe a dream of the best kiss you’ve ever had with the best person you’ve ever loved. Maybe even a dream of the birth of your favourite pet, and the kitten is so soft and harmless and vulnerable.

These dreams remind us of the best times of your life. These dreams remind of a time when you’re not as broken as you currently are, and in many ways, they remind you of how whole you CAN be. How healthy you can be. They remind you of times past, and they scare you.

The dreams scare you because you look in the mirror and realise that you’re a shadow, a ghost, of your previous self. You are a shattered remnant of what you used to be, and it scares you. You can no longer hold someone and comfort them while they cry. You can no longer write something cheerful without grimacing with the sheer irony of it.

 

I put my ring on and called for Stephanie.

 

“I’m not sure what to make of Andrea, Steph.”

 

“She’s going to be good for you.”

 

I massaged my temples.

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Because you can’t help but smile whenever you think about her.”

 

Steph smirked and tried to give me a massage. Fat load of help it would do, considering that she wasn’t technically…here.

 

“Steph, in the span of 12 months, I’ve broken Summer’s heart, you died and I couldn’t stop you. What makes you think that Andrea would want a person with so much emotional baggage?”

 

“Because she has her own.”

 

“So you’re saying that I shouldn’t be concerned about having baggage, and be more concerned with how I slowly introduce each piece of luggage to her?”

 

“As a manner of speaking, Ronron, yup. You don’t go into the date and tell her ‘I HAVE THIS AMOUNT OF BAGGAGE LOL’, of course. You go into the date telling her that you have baggage.”

 

“Hi, Andrea. I have a shitton of emotional baggage. This handbag represents my feelings of utter and complete inadequacy in myself. This backpack represents my need to feel more masculine than I really am. This fannypack? The one on Stephanie’s ass, represents how much of an asinine waste of time this is.” I replied sarcastically.

 

Stephanie mock-slapped me.

 

“Darlin’, you need to have more belief in yourself.”

 

“Perhaps.”

Or perhaps not. I’m not one to stand someone up, but I’m not feeling that confident at how this will be going. Andrea was a beautiful, young singer in a bar.

 

What would she want with a broken, sad, pile of insecurities? What would anyone, honestly?

______________________

 

People get dumped, people lose love, and people lose themselves to despair some nights.

 

It’s natural. There’s nothing unnatural about a breakup, or losing love, or losing one’s self to despair. Especially despair from lost hope, when what you truly believed in is no longer proven true. There’s nothing unnatural.

If anything. Benjamin always stopped me from flying off the hook. He was always the wiser, smarter one of the two of us. Benjy would calm me down when I needed someone from stopping me from being a totally reckless idiot, Benjy would stop me from that.

When I needed Benjamin to live a little, I would drag him out to all my crazy adventures. To the amusement park, to dive, to overcome fears and to go on random photography journeys. Our parents would always frown so much when I got into trouble, and the first person they would always blame was Benjamin for not stopping me.

 

I once broke my arm, and Benjy felt so guilty for not looking out for me. I felt so much worst for making him feel bad. It wasn’t his fault that I fell and broke my arm, it was mine and not looking out for the turn properly and falling down on my arm.

 

Funnily enough, Benjamin is the younger twin, and I, the older one. He would always use that fact to argue that we were God’s little joke. He mixed up the order of how we came out.

 

It brings me back to how I managed to get Aaron to ask me out. I had shoved my number to him, and he called me to arrange a date at the Pancake Place.

He seemed like such a nice guy, but, I could sense so much baggage to him. So much of the world’s worries behind those eyes and matted geeky hair.

 

Who was ‘Stephanie’? Who was this person he could get so drunk over? Who is Aaron? What does he do? What does he want?

Why would he want to bother giving a crazy, maniac girl a chance, and call? Why would anyone bother with me?

 

Was it because I looked awesome on stage? Was it because of my voice?

Or did he feel the same way that I did, that there was finally someone who shared my want and need for companionship? Did he feel that there might be something to us?

Did he like bantering with me like that?

 

If Benjy were here, he could have answered my phone calls and given me good advice and reassured me that I was doing the right thing, or caution me for something that wasn’t exactly right. He would come over and listen to me sing and play my guitar for hours and hours on end.

He would cook a nice batch of his burgers, and we would talk about how he thinks that my music was missing something. He would fry up some potato wedges the way I liked them, and he would tell me all his secrets, and I would tell him all of mine. I would always talk about the boys I liked and he would tell me more about the brilliant suits he bought, and the many different bags he was interested in.

He would never tell me about my love life, because ‘I’m afraid you might disown me’.

 

“I would never do that, my dearest brother.” I would say.

 

“You always say ‘dearest’. I’m your only brother, afterall!” he would reply. He would then trail off into another topic altogether, and that would be the end of it. He always dodged questions about his love life, even though I would always tell him that I loved him just the way he is.

 

Benjy would always stand up for me, and there isn’t a night that goes by without me regretting the events of that night. I wished I stood up for him that day, and I wished that I could turn back time.

 

Life doesn’t work that way, and amidst all my insecurities, fears and regrets, I know that I need to keep playing. I need to keep showing Benjy that I will keep playing and keep moving on, because he would hate for me to stay like how I did. He would hate me even more if I didn’t have the balls to live.

 

I never want to lose someone like that ever again, and I never want to be that weak. I never want to be how I used to be, and keep taking without giving. I never want to be so self-centered that I forget all about someone else.

 

I got dressed, and left the house.

 

If Aaron has a secret that is ever as big as Benjamin used to keep, then I will not allow him to go the same way. I will heal him with whatever it takes. I will heal anyone, with whatever it takes.

I REFUSE to stand down and be broken. I refuse to mourn the times I’ve lost battles. I refuse to just keep staying sad and emotional about the lost, because my brother wouldn’t ever allow me to have done that.

The battle isn’t over until the fat lady sings the last note of the dirge. The whole song isn’t over until the final note.

 

That is what Benjy would have done if he were here. He would slap me for thinking so long and hard about someone instead of going out. He would say sweet little things about hope and love and finding the courage in one’s self. He would preach so hard that I would want to leave the house before he said another word. He would choose a nice outfit for me, and he would say that ‘I’m the thinker, you’re the do-er! So let’s not swap roles. You look like you have a bad case of constipation when you try thinking too hard!’. He would give Aaron a chance, and smile when he shakes hands with Aaron.

 

“Give Aaron a chance, to open his heart. These things aren’t easy.” Benjamin would insist, even with all my fears.

 

I am, Benjy. Watch me. I’ll try.

 

____________________________

 

_Dear Aaron,_

 

_I’m done. I have nothing left in this world, and it pisses me off._

_Damien and I broke up, and I keep wondering where I went wrong. I am truly jaded at life, and I don’t believe it will get better anytime soon. I don’t believe it will change. I don’t believe that barring the power of magic, my life can get any better._

 

_I’m a terrible person._

_I lost you because I was too controlling, and I don’t have the courage to ask for you back. I don’t have the courage to go all about it. I don’t have the courage to stand in front of you and tell you that I’m just a simple girl, telling you her most heartfelt apologies and asking you to love me again. After all, I’m just a girl who’s writing to a boy she loves very much, and doesn’t have the courage to actually send these pathetic letters. I’m just a girl who doesn’t have that anymore._

 

_I lost you._

_I lost Damien, and I don’t really see the point to leaving the house anymore. Everything else seems like a paltry distraction that is doomed to failure at distracting me from the level of pain I feel._

 

_I don’t even know if I should go to the class reunion. I don’t think that I can hold myself together long enough to attend an event where I might see you, and we might not be friends all over again. I’m too cynical to know that might never happen again. I don’t think that the moment I walk in, I don’t think we have a chance at being friends._

_I want to hope. I want to hope so goddamn much that you WILL want me back. I want to believe in it so much, that this fantasy of having my best friend in the whole goddamn world would want me back, but I’m truly afraid. I’m too scared of going out there into the world where you would never hug me again, or tell me you care._

_Or comfort me when I break up with some new guy, or hold me when I need you most._

 

_I can stand not having a boyfriend. I can stand not having eyes of lust, focused on me. I cannot stand not having eyes of love, gratitude and understanding trained onto me._

_I cannot stand being without someone as loving as you in my life. I cannot stand it, and I’m afraid._

 

_I’m truly too afraid to go into that reunion knowing that we can never be friends again. I’m afraid that you will ignore me and have forgotten all about our relationship, our friendship. I’m afraid you will never hold me and brush away all my insecurities ever again._

 

_And this time, I’ll keep trying and trying until I succeed._

 

_The key is to not be afraid._

 

_Love, Steph._

____________________________

 

“I see that the crazy punk rock chick’s late.”

 

I had already started on my pancakes, drizzled generously with maple syrup.

 

“And I see that the boorish punk has already started without his beautiful guest.”

 

She took a seat at the booth, and got the closest waitress to take her order. I ordered some more pancakes, and a milkshake.

 

“And JUST for that, you’re paying the bill!”

She grinned mischievously.

 

“Oh GROW UP, we live in the 21st Century. Chivalry’s dead.”

I argued back.

 

“Well, revive it then!”

 

“COME ON, I was hungry, and you were late for half an hour!”

I said defensively.

 

“Fine, fine, I get it. Don’t get your panties in a bunch, sista.”

 

I continued munching on my pancakes. Fair enough, they were delicious. Crazy Chick had a point when she recommended this place for dinner.

 

“What did you order, anyway?” I wiped my lips off from the maple syrup.

 

She opened up the menu and pointed to the special, a pancake burger.

 

“The Orgasm on a pancake.” She described enthusiastically.

 

Just as she finished her sentence, another waitress appeared and served us.

 

“Oh, hi there, Andrea! How’ve you been? It’s been ages since we last saw you.” The waitress said.

 

“Hi there, Pauline. How’re the kids?” She nodded and replied cheerfully.

 

“They’ve been fine. Little Bobby’s teething!” the waitress said.

Though for some reason, she had wanted to ask something of Andrea.

 

“Good to hear!” said Andrea.

 

“Have you been okay since. Since Benjy…ya know?” the waitress asked.

 

Andrea nodded. She didn’t reply, as if the waitress had pressed an invisible mute button on Andrea.

 

“Err, alright then. You two have some privacy now.” Pauline left in a hurry.

 

Andrea dug into her pancakes and started moaning.

 

“You’re not REALLY having an orgasm in public, right? I don’t think I want to be caught and arrested by the police for public indecency…” I joked.

 

She cut up a piece and fed me.

 

I chewed the piece she offered me and I understood what she meant.

 

She giggled when she saw me close my eyes, and moaned aloud.

 

“I told you this place was good, huh!”

 

“Fine, fine, I concede. Dinner’s on me, crazychick.”

 

We finished up, and I paid the bill, and we left. It was a cold night on the street, and we kept walking.

 

“Andrea, I need to tell you something.” I uttered.

 

“I think I need to tell you some things too.”

 

“Here goes then: Andrea, before you decide to get to know me better, I just want you to know that I’m broken as hell. I’m emotionally broken, stunted, and a bit weird. One of best friends committed suicide, and I got off a bad breakup. I’m really not in the best of moods, these days, and I’m still recovering. So if any of that is going to scare you off, and stop you from trying to be my friend, and stop you from attempting to develop a relationship of any sort with me, then I rather you knew now.”

 

Andrea nodded, and took it all in.

 

“My turn: Aaron, before YOU decide to get to know me better, I have baggage too. I don’t feel comfortable talking about it yet, but I KNOW that you have baggage.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Uh. Duhhh?”

 

“I mean, I get I’m sad, but how can you just take it in so naturally?”

 

“You’re definitely not without baggage, and you ARE broken. You’re much more broken than initially observed and assumed by me,” she said. “But much less than you think you have.”

 

“I was honestly scared to try trusting you, no matter how little.”

 

“And I understand.”

 

She hugged me gently. She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.

 

“You’re a good person, Aaron. So, smile. It will get better.”

 

And for the first time in a while, I believed it.

 

__________________


	6. Belief.

_“Benjy?”_

_“Yes, Ree-Ree?”_

_Benjy was absentmindedly tuning his guitar, and it was moments like these where I felt so close to him. We both get so busy, quiet moments with him getting increasingly rare. The rare occasions where we manage to find time to jam in the basement, I cherish all the more. Moments like these are always filled with a feeling of care. A feeling of comfort. A feeling that I have not been able to recreate._

_Being around my twin brother was calming, and maybe it has got to do with the ‘Twin-Link’ that most pairs of twins claim to share with their own._

_“Benjy, do you believe in a God?”_

_It was an odd question to ask. Especially when our parents had raised us as staunch Christians. I’ve never really asked Benjy how he felt about faith, and belief. It was something taboo, of sorts, when you live in such a religious family, or at least, taboo in the eyes of the bigotry my parents have always impressed onto us since we were children._

_It was a wonder that we ever broke free of that._

_Benjy moved to tune another string, and he replied._

_“Well, Re-Re, I don’t just believe in ‘A’ God. I believe that in their own ways, the Gods of all the other faiths are just as real as the God we’re taught to believe in.”_

_“How so?”_

_“There are two ways of looking at of the phrase ‘Belief in’. We have commendatory belief, an expression of confidence in something or someone, like in the sentence ‘I believe in the power of your voice’.” Benjy adjusted his glasses._

_“There is also the existential claim. ‘I believe in a God’.”_

_“Does that mean you believe in the power of a God? And divine intervention?”_

_“Quite the contrary. I believe that there is such a thing as a God. Or Gods. I don’t believe that any God, for that matter, would ever intervene with one of his followers lives on a personal scale.”_

_“Then what is the whole point of praying to God? What is the point of asking of him for miracles?”_

_“Because in my honest opinion, darlin’, God gave us our arms and legs to change our fate. In a way, he has cursed and blessed us with the power to change our own destinies. The power to write and rewrite, our paths.”_

_“Then…why do you believe in the romantic idea of God?”_

_“I believe that He would accept me for who I was. God would never leave or forsake anyone who believes in Him. The idea of someone able to absolve me of any fear I have from rejection, and who would accept me wholeheartedly and unconditionally. That was something that has always appealed to me since I was much younger.”_

_I stayed silent. This has turned into a much deeper conversation than I thought._

_“I love you, Benjy. You’re the best brother a girl can ever have, to grow up with.”_

_Benjy strummed the guitar a few times, and he started singing part of the song, Under Pressure._

“Insanity laughs under pressure we’re cracking

Can’t we give ourselves one more chance

Why can’t we give love that one more chance

Why can’t we give love give love give love give love give love give love give love give love give love

‘Cause love’s such an old fashioned word

And love dares you to care for

The people on the edge of the night

And loves dares you to change our way of

Caring about ourselves

This is our last dance

This is our last dance

This is ourselves

Under pressure

Under pressure”

_“We’re all afraid what is to come after death, Ree-Ree. That’s why such a thing as ‘Religion’ exists. A somewhat hopeful bunch of people, believing in something intangible and unobservable, in a hope that they could unlock or find an answer to what comes after death. In a hope that when we die, we all meet the same imaginary person. The same abstract idea.”_

_“So me not being able to accept religion is okay?”_

_Benjy beckoned me over, and I shuffled closer to him. He gave me a gigantic hug._

_“Of course it is okay, my darling sister. It is okay to not believe in the same things that our parents try to impress onto us. It is okay to love another woman. It is okay to love someone of another race. It is okay to love a different God than the one I love.”_

_I’ve always felt at ease with Benjy. He seemed to have lived so much longer than I have. He always seemed to have the amount of patience equal to the amount of impatience I’ve always had._

_“It’s okay to love what you want. It truly is, and what is always important, is to love one’s self before attempting to love someone else.”_

_“Then if that’s so, why don’t you ever tell me about what it feels to love someone else? Why have you never told me how you feel about loving someone else altogether?”_

_“Because, Ree-Ree, I’ve always been afraid of my secret. I’ve always been afraid to tell anyone. Even you.”_

_________________________

Andrea was right. It was getting better. Marginally so, at least. My life was getting much better. School hasn’t been totally crazy, and I feel a lot better. The past few weeks have been good.

She brings me everywhere in the day, on her free time. She brings me to the movies, to the gardens, to Karaoke-sessions(she beats my ass at singing, of course.), and when we’re done, we’ll rent a movie and watch it back at my place.

She was a bundle of energy, and it has been fun, hanging out with her. I feel alive again, and I love it.

I haven’t summoned Stephanie in a week, and I feel a bit of guilt. I feel as if I had left a friend behind just to hang out with someone else, and it’s weird. Stephanie’s dead. Why should I feel guilt for attempting to move on and away from her, right?

I feel comfortable with Andrea. I think that I should tell her my secret sometime. I really want for her to meet Stephanie, or at least show her that I’m not crazy.

I put the ring on.

“Hello, Handsome. Been a while.” Steph smiled sweetly.

“I’m sorry, Steph. I need to move on, and right now, Andrea’s helping me with it.”

“Yet you want her to meet me.”

I nodded.

“Would you be willing to? You are an important part of me, and I think it would be fitting that you met her and maybe…you two could become friends?”

“I wouldn’t mind. However, I think that it isn’t a wise decision, dear.”

“How so?”

“I just have a bad feeling, Aaron.” She said sternly.

I don’t like it when Steph calls me ‘Aaron’. Whenever Stephanie called me by my name, instead of a pet name, or a cutesy nickname, she would turn serious. She would indicate clearly that we were in a point of a conversation that had a dangerous element to it.

“I insist that you meet her, Steph. I think I love Andrea, and she’s my present. I want you to meet her.”

Steph maintained her frown. I stared at her, she stared back, until eventually, she relented.

Stephanie sighed.

“If it would make you feel better, then I guess it would be okay.”

My phone rang. I took the ring off, and replaced it onto my necklace.

“Ronnie, are we meeting today or not?”

Speak of the devil. I was to meet Andrea today.

“I guess we are?”

“Good, pack a bag for the beach, and you can pick me up from the bar. I’ll get Uncle Joe to pack us a picnic basket!”

She hung up after that.

I won’t deny it. Keeping up with her was tiring.

_____________________

It gets a bit scary, hanging out with Aaron. There are just so many trigger words I avoid, to ensure that his disposition doesn’t do a 180 Degree turn in 5 minutes. There was one night, we watched Rocky III, and when we get to the scene with Apollo Creed dying, he excused himself, and I found him tearing up in the kitchen.

It gets tiring, especially when you realise that Ron was emotionally needy. It wasn’t anything you can outwardly sense, but there are the tiny, minor things that clue you in on how much need he has for companionship.

It wasn’t anything unmanageable.

Aaron is pretty sweet. There are nights where he would send me texts about his own insecurities, and he would sign off with how much I meant to him. He would always tell me how important I am to him, and I admit that those little texts mean so much to me.

I guess that part of me is glad that I have a stoic partner again. I’m glad to have someone like him in my life, and I’m glad to know that he is someone I believe won’t leave.

I believe in him, because I know that even though he is emotionally unstable, he is trying so very hard to trust again. He is trying to overcome his abandonment issues, and his phobia of trusting in someone, in an attempt to move on from his own issues.

He won’t leave.

___________________

I drove up to the Oily Spoon. Andrea lived in a small apartment above it. Her Uncle Joe let her have the place for a cheap price per month, since he owned the place after all. It was a perfectly sized apartment, and she has managed to furnish it and call it home.

I knocked on the door. She would usually leave it unlocked if I were to visit.

“I’m coming in!” I hollered.

“OKAY!” She shouted back.

I entered, and grabbed a beer from the fridge. I took a seat at the Kitchen, and sipped my beer.

Andrea walks out in a Bikini-top and a pair of shorts.

“So, how do I look, Ron?”

I blushed a few shades of red. She looked amazing. She was blushing slightly, with her hair in a ponytail, and she was wearing glasses.

“I think you look beautiful.”

“You’re making me blush.”

She smiled sheepishly, and threw on a plain white shirt. She grabbed her beach bag, and we both locked the door and made our way to the car.

“I never knew you wore glasses. Why don’t you wear them more?”

She took them off and polished the lenses.

“I look nerdy with glasses.”

“I think you look cute in them, actually.”

I smiled. I loved seeing Andrea so embarrassed. It was a cute little role reversal.

We drove to the beach, and we unpacked the picnic mat at a nice, quiet spot. We took a seat and Andrea started building a sandcastle. I started chewing a sandwich.

As I sat there just talking to her about the random things about marine animals, and the mating habits of penguins, and how sand is just the accumulated whittled down parts of seashells. I realised that I loved being with her.

“Andrea?”

She was munching on a chicken leg. It was an amusing contrast to the usual behaviour she has around me. The lady-like demeanor. She wiped off the sauce from her lips.

“The chicken is TO DIE for. I really REALLY need to get the recipe from Uncle Joe.”

I laughed aloud. The sound was alien. It was the first time I’ve found myself laughing in so long.

“And what, burn your kitchen down?”

“For the last time, I swear that the thing said 10 minutes, and not 1 minute. I swear!!!” She shrieked.

I poked her, and then I held her from behind. I placed my hands around her waist. I wrapped my arms around her waist, and I whispered into her ear.

“I love you.”

____________________

He was so close. I could feel his breath on my skin. I could feel his skin touch mine, and he held me like I was a treasure. For the first time since knowing Aaron, for once, I feel secure in his arms. The sheer warmth of him behind me, woke so much up about me. It seemed to light a fire in my heart. A gentle warmth. The euphoric cling of another human being on you.

Was this a remnant of how he was before all the baggage?

Was this how he’s supposed to be?

I found myself lost in his embrace.

“I love you too.”

____________________

I kissed Andrea. I kissed her gently, her hands on my neck, mine on her waist. She pulled me in, I couldn’t help but feel so much. For the first time in so long, I believe so much in my own happiness. I felt so unbreakable, so infallible right there with her.

Stephanie felt like a long time ago.

Stephanie.

I pulled away.

“Andrea. I have a secret.”

“What is it?”

“I can see her.”

I said. Almost inaudibly.

_____________________

_“What is it, Benjy? What is it that you’re just so goddamn afraid to share with me?”_

_“Ree-Ree, I’m gay.”_

_I can’t exactly say that I’m surprised. Benjy has never expressed interest in me setting him up with any of my gal-friends. Benjy doesn’t have many guy friends._

_In fact, I’m more scared that surprised. Our parents aren’t exactly the most homo-philic of people. Dad has been a vocal member of an Anti-Gay rights group for years. My Mother has always taught us that being gay was a sin unto God. The longer it took for it to sink in, the more I realised why Benjy has kept the secret from everyone. Even from me._

_“Have you told Mom or Dad?”_

_Benjy laughed sardonically._

_“Do you really think they would take to having a gay son?”_

_I shook my head._

_“Well then, Ree-Ree, do you love me any less? Or do you want to disown me?”_

_He said acidly._

_“Don’t be a dick. You just came out of the closet, you didn’t admit to being a total jerk.”_

_“I’m sorry. I’m just…afraid.”_

_I hugged him tightly._

_“I love you, Benjamin. Even if you were gayer than Elton John.”_

_He started tearing up, and shook. I have never seen Benjy cry before. I have never seen him so torn up and so shaken. He was physically shaking, and crying hard._

_I just held on to him tighter. After about 10 minutes, he stopped and dried his tears. He wiped his tears off, and smiled._

_“Thank you, dear. I’ve just been so afraid that even you would reject me. I was so afraid that you would go away, like how our parents would do. I’m so afraid that you would go away.”_

_I kissed him gently on the forehead._

_“I think you should tell them. I think that you should come out of the closet. You need to stop living like this.”_

_“I think I will. I was intending to do so tonight.”_

_I smiled._

_“I love you, brother.”_

_______________________

The car ride home was quiet. We finally got to my place, and we unpacked our sandy clothes.

Finally, we took a seat on the sofa. We were both still silent. Until Andrea questioned me.

“What did you mean by ‘being able to see her’?”

“I mean that when I take my ring off, and put it on my ring finger, or touch it, I can summon Stephanie and I can talk to her like how I’ve always done so.”

I don’t think she believes me. I don’t think Andrea believes me.

“And you’re telling me this why?”

“Because I want you to meet her.”

Andrea nodded silently.

“Then, can we meet her now?”

I held onto her hand.

“Hold onto my hand, and make sure you touch the ring.”

_______________________

“Stephanie?”

He said. He started talking to thin air. He started talking as if there were someone there replying to him. I am not going to lie. It was scary. It was clear that Aaron’s mind was in some other place. It was clear that Aaron thinks he’s truly talking to Stephanie.

He was truly talking to her as if they’ve known each other for years. He articulate jokes so naturally, as if there were truly someone there, sassing and joking with him like old friends.

There was no one there. Aaron can’t see her ghost. Stephanie was a mere figment of his imagination. Stephanie was some psychotic fantasy conjured up from Aaron’s subconscious.

______________________

“Aaron?”

Andrea said.

Andrea looked at me with horror in her eyes. Why? Was it truly so scary to observe something that was so clearly in front of the both of us?

I suppose it would be shocking to be talking with the living dead.

Andrea started crying.

“What’s wrong, Andrea?”

______________________

“Andrea?” he said. He was trying to comfort me.

I hugged him tightly, holding his head tightly to my chest. It scares me. It scares me so goddamn much that I’m in love with a man who is psychotic, and disjointed from reality. It scares me so much to see him in an episode like this. It scares me so much, because I know that he loves me too.

I hate myself so much for betraying how I feel. I hate myself right now, so much, because I betrayed so much of my fear to him. I hate that he can see my tears.

“Andrea, it’s rude to not say a word in reply when someone greets you.” He says.

‘Stephanie’ was attempting to ‘greet me’. How exactly do you reply to something you can’t observe? How exactly are you to react to an invisible, intangible entity that was supposedly in the room?

Help me, Benjamin. I need you now, so much. I need you to guide me, because the man I love is crazy, and I don’t know what to do. Please, Benjamin, give me some guidance. Give me a light. Please tell me how to help Ron.

____________________

“Steph, what’s wrong with Andrea?”

Stephanie looked sheepish, and then she spoke.

“I was afraid of this, Aaron.”

“Afraid of WHAT?” I replied, I’m afraid of the answer.

“I don’t really exist.”

Andrea was still holding onto me tightly. I was still in her embrace.

“I’m not really Stephanie, Aaron.”

I didn’t know what to believe. I kept staring at Stephanie. I kept looking for clues.

“I’m just a part of your subconscious that imagined Stephanie. I’m part of you, literally. I’m just your inner voice, manifested by the power of your mind.”

At that point, I shut off.

“You can’t be. You have to be the ghost of Stephanie, you HAVE TO BE.” I shouted.

Andrea was obviously scared. She let go of me, and stepped away from the sofa.

“Andrea, what’s wrong? Honey?”

She backed away a bit further, and opened the door to leave.

“Can’t you…can’t you see her?”

____________________


	7. Fear

“So, Aaron. Tell me about your family.”

It was the first time I’ve been to see a psychologist, and when my Mom answered the phone, she was a bit taken aback, though understanding at why I would want to see a psychologist, counselor or someone along those lines. When I told her that I’ve been going through a lot, and that I needed some professional help, she got me, and recommended me to someone she knew. Someone she was in contact with back in her days in healthcare. I expressed worries about privacy and patient confidentiality, Mom promised to keep my issues to whoever I’ll be seeing.

That meant a lot. There’s just so much I don’t want my Mom to worry about, especially since I was living alone. I didn’t want her to pry into my life. It was my life, and for once, I just want her to just worry about me from afar and let me fight my own battles.

I told her how I felt. She understood.

So with that, I walked into the room for the first time.

Dr. Kendra was a 40-something lady. She seemed motherly, and when we first met, she was welcoming. I felt at home in her office, and I felt at ease. Her presence had a maternal feel to it. She was a proper healer, and I felt that aura instantly upon entering the room.

I asked her if it was intentional that I felt at ease in the hour-long sessions we had. I asked her if she were aware that there was just a calming effect by simply being in her presence.

She just smiled and poured me a cup of tea, thanking me for the simple compliment.

Over the course of the past 3 weeks, she’s been my professional help. She’s been the person that has kept me thinking about my past in general, and she has been the person to help me face up to my fears.

She’s been the medical help I needed, and I was slowly coming to terms with being able to see Stephanie as a psychotic fantasy.

I still saw Stephanie when I needed to, but I didn’t tell Dr. Kendra I was able to. I felt that if I got over any hidden anxiety about losing Stephanie, I would lose her totally.

Somehow, Dr. Kendra has sensed that, and has insisted that I stopped wearing the ring once and for all. She insisted that the ring was a relic that reminded me most of someone who was gone. She insisted that out of professional concern for my well-being, I couldn’t progress properly into the next step of recovery.

She was right, definitely.

I just wasn’t ready to let go.

I just think about how the past 3 weeks since that incident, I haven’t seen Andrea. Andrea had not contacted me either, and it was painful. The first person I properly trusted since the suicide, and I can’t bear to get in touch with her. I can’t bear to get in touch with her, out of pure fear.

That’s the key in this. I am afraid of going back to Andrea. I’m afraid of what might come of it, and I’m afraid of letting her down. I’m afraid that I might not be good enough.

“Maybe, you just need a bit more confrontation. You need to stop being so passive about major life decisions. You need to be more active at certain aspects. You need to be less reckless when it comes to some decisions. Most of all, you need to realise that regret as a concept, shouldn’t exist in your vocabulary.”

Dr. Kendra has a point. I need to stop feeling guilty of the things I could have stopped, and I need to choose the proper times to take action, and when not to. I need to learn to deal with the consequences of my actions. I need to learn how to move on.

Most of all, I need to stop regretting any actions.

“So, Doc. Should I get back into Andrea’s life?”

“I think that it would benefit you greatly. I think that her presence in your life after Stephanie died, was positive more than negative. Andrea played a positive impact in your recovery, and the only reason she isn’t here for you, is because you haven’t asked for her back. I think that most of all, your psychosis has to do with your lack of ability to deal with great amounts of grief.”

“What if I fail again?”

“Aaron. You’ve never failed anyone before. You’ve been the model patient, and you listen to me. You listen to the advice you pay for, and you took the initiative to become better.”

“But it is legitimate as a fear, right?”

“It is, but Aaron-The cruelest prison anyone can ever lock themselves into, is a prison made up by our own fears and regrets.”

“I will get better, right, Doc?”

“You will get better. You will get better some day, but only if you work with me on it. Only if you agreed to finally take that ring off, and only if you finally choose to leave that part of your past behind.”

“I will be able to some day, right?”

“I believe in you, Aaron. You will be able to turn your life around someday. It might not be today, or tomorrow, but the key here is to not be afraid and to choose to change.”

‘The key is to not be afraid’, huh. It sounds exactly like what she would say to me.

“Would you agree that I should get Andrea back?”

“Yes. I think you should try becoming friends with her again, because though you’ve known each other barely a month, she means a lot to you. She means and symbolises so much of the ‘old’ you that you keep describing.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Thank you, Doc.”

She smiles and nods.

“As always, Aaron. I believe you can do it.”

I smiled, and opened the door.

“The key is to not be afraid, Doc. I will not be afraid to live.”

________________________________

Then come the evenings. I would sit around and put the ring on. I could summon my subconscious and manifest it in front of me. I could talk to it, and it would be in the shape of Stephanie. Recently, it had become less realistic. The illusion of Stephanie manifested in front of me was no longer as solid as I had originally imagined her. The shadow cast by the ring wasn’t as visible, but was still there.

I would wonder aloud why I still talk to my self in this manner. Why do I waste my time talking to a figment of my psychotic imagination? Why do I waste my time attempting to maintain a friendship with a silhouette of my deceased best friend? Why am I wasting my time with this façade of my former friend?

“Because, Ron, you miss her. You still miss her so much.” Stephanie’s apparition would say. I was now aware that in essentiality, I was talking to my own personality. I was talking to a part of me that still missed Stephanie.

And I realise why I still manifest her from time to time. The same reason why I miss the past. She was always there for me, and right now, in all my fear and regret, I fear what is right in front of me.

I fear calling Andrea and getting rejected. I fear that I might never be a person mentally sound enough to love Andrea. I am scared that I might never be able to recover from this. I am terrified that my heart will never be properly put in the right place for me to care for another human being again.

It’s not an easy thing to have either, because this terror I get when I realise that I might never be able to change enough to fit Andrea. I don’t know if I can get past this. I don’t know if I can be human again, and most of all, I don’t know if I can be whole enough for her to love me.

“You can do this.” Stephanie’s apparition became much more solid.

“How do you know, me?”

“Because we’ve braced through tough storms. We’ve gotten through so much, we have the potential for anything. We have the potential energy to brace one more big storm.”

“What if it gets worst?”

“We endure. WE always have, we can do it again.”

“You’re right.

I replaced the ring onto my necklace. I went to take a quick shower, and I went to get changed up.

I refuse to continue being in such a slump. I refuse to continue feeling worthless. I refuse to stay in bed a second more. I refuse to let life just fuck me over this badly, because I know I can get past this.

When someone beats the living tar out of you, when something just makes you feel like this. When something robs you of so much of your future, then it is our obligation. Our evolutionary RIGHT to move past it, no matter how debilitating the injury, no matter how painful the experience.

We’ve managed to survive a million years of evolution. I can do with a few more months of pain.

I finally have a reason to fight for life.

________________________

_“But BENJY, I’M AFRAID OF HEIGHTS.”_

_Benjamin had pulled me along for the rollercoaster. I had always refused taking the thrill rides, because I was always afraid that the cars on the rollercoaster might let us go. I was always afraid that I might die from taking an amusement park ride, because face it. “Dying in Happy Fun Land” is just the saddest way to go, in my opinion._

_Why? Simple, because my death has finally traumatised the kids who are in the vicinity. I’ve always stated to Benjy, that if I ever died, then I would want to die in a way that didn’t fully traumatise everyone around me. I didn’t want anyone to be traumatised by knocking me down with a car._

_Benjamin just smiled._

_“Considering my secret, Rea, I think that you might find me just dead somewhere.”_

_“We have morbid senses of humour, huh?”_

_“Well, sweetheart, can’t help that I was BORN THIS WAYYYY~”_

_Oh GOD that song. I hated that song. I feel that Benjamin LOVED torturing me by just singing songs that are just TERRIBLE, especially when he knows that we can make much better music together on our own._

_“Seriously though, Benjy. I’m afraid of Rollercoasters. MUST I ride with you?”_

_Benjy looked dejected, and brought out his small chess set, with pieces glued onto it. He had wanted to make a funny picture for the cameras at the rollercoasters. He has had always wanted to get a picture of us doing something zany of a rollercoaster, and admittedly, this was a funny idea._

_“My darling Twin, I know you’re afraid of heights…but I want you to know that you should have courage, and not be scared.”_

_“But…what if I fall? It’s a legit PHOBIA. I don’t know if I can take it if I fell and died like that!”_

_He pulled out the cross he wore on a bit of string around his neck. He gave the cross a light kiss, and he said a simple prayer._

_“Because, my sister, God placed courage into us human beings, to overcome the many obstacles, challenges and phobias standing in our way. He gave us courage to overcome our fears and our nightmares. God loves us and he will always protect the ones who need the most.”_

_It was awkward when he would go into his ‘devout Christian’ persona. It has always been weird, and I usually just shuffle awkwardly when he preaches something totally awesome about God or something along those lines._

_It wasn’t anything personal, but I’ve never felt religious. I’ve never felt as religious as he has always shown himself to be. It gets awkward, and I suppose that was the only true barrier between us which I’ve never been able to overcome. I’ve always been afraid of telling him how I felt about being Christian. I’ve always been afraid of faith, ever since I was old enough to learn about how a boy cannot kiss another boy._

_I’ve never understood why our parents would specify such a hatred for homosexuality to call homosexuals ‘abominations of mankind’. I’ve never understood why our parents would also say so many hateful words for people of other races or creeds. I’ve never understood why our parents were such bigots, and I guess that I’ve always been afraid that my twin would turn out to become like them._

_I once got grounded for hanging out with a black girl, just based on skin colour. I just never understood how our parents lived life._

_I can also never understand why my twin brother has always been able to convince me about his beliefs. Was it his sheer amount of charisma? I don’t know._

_“God will protect you on that rollercoaster, sister. I promise you that he will.”_

_I nodded._

_“God Bless us.”_

_And just like that, Benjamin managed to convince me to get onto that rollercoaster. That was how I managed to get that picture of us playing chess on the rollercoaster._

_____________________

It hasn’t been a good 3 weeks. It’s been hell, and most of all, I realise that I miss Aaron. I miss a mentally ill person, and I realise that I’ve barely known him for a month or two, but I realise why I like him so much.

Aaron’s the first person I’ve properly made friends with, ever since Benjy died. The first person I’ve properly TRUSTED since Benjamin died, and I think that in our short amount of time, I’ve never felt so loved by a man that way. I’ve never felt love so tender, gentle and real.

I was never going to be someone like Stephanie to Aaron, but it felt like the love we’re told about in the fairy tales. When he told me that he loved me, I thought I could just melt into his arms. I could just melt from a love so pure and unadulterated. I could lose myself in his eyes, his arms. I could feel myself just collapse at the knees.

Yet I know that I must hold myself back before I fall deeper into this cesspool of emotion. I know that I might never be good enough to oust Stephanie as a priority in his life. I know that I might be the only one in this relationship to feel like this, and I know that I am not emotionally strong enough for him to come back into my life. I know that to Aaron, that ring serves to be a relic to a time lost and long gone, that I can never replace or substitute. I will never be as strong or as fond a memory for me to be encased forever into a ring worn around his neck. I will never be able to be the image of his mental health breaking down.

I know that I’m not good enough. I’ve proven that I wasn’t good enough to keep Benjamin here. I couldn’t keep it together when I witnessed Aaron breakdown mentally. I wasn’t enough to keep Benjamin from dying, and I couldn’t form enough good reason for him to STAY.

I couldn’t keep it together when I witnessed Aaron breakdown like that in front of me. I was not good enough and I let fear overcome my senses and triggering my flight response. I couldn’t fight my own instinct to stay there and tell my best friend(I guess?) that it’ll be okay. I couldn’t stay and hold him enough to stop him from breaking down.

I’m a horrible person, and I was never good enough, and I never will be. I don’t think I deserve love of any kind, and I don’t think that any amount of love I receive will never be enough to make me want to give out and reciprocate in equality. I’m afraid that I might never feel as loved as Aaron loved me in that mere embrace. I’m afraid that Aaron might leave me like Benjamin did. I’m afraid that I will never be enough to keep him here with me. I’m afraid that I will fail Aaron the same way I failed Benjamin.

I’m afraid that I might succumb to my fear and just not say anything until it’s too late. I’m too afraid and timid to make the big decisions. I’m too afraid to love again, because I know that I cannot take it if I lost again.

I guess that in so many ways, I am a little lost girl, asking for someone to love her. Asking for someone to not leave, for once. Asking for someone to just come back into my life and stay, without any consequence.

I guess in that sick sense, I didn’t want Aaron to come back into my life again. I don’t want to actively contact him and tell him to stay, because I am afraid of what is to come.

In so many damn ways, I was a coward, and I think that if I learnt to stop yearning for love and everything that entails a loving relationship between two people, be it as man and wife, or boyfriend and girlfriend, or sister and brother, or mother and daughter.

I think that if I learnt to stop yearning for it every damn day of my life, I could slowly learn to wean myself off it. I could slowly learn to get over having emotions and learn to just live life day-in and day-out without being disappointed. I think that if I set the bar so low, I can never be disappointed.

I can never be let down by people dying, or by my parents being total and utter jerks, or by my love interest never coming back to me a sane man.

I don’t deserve the love I get, because I am afraid to reciprocate.

I’m afraid that I never will be able to.

______________________________

I drove to the Oily Spoon, and I stayed at the parking lot for a good while.

Andrea was playing today, and I’m not sure if I should go in. I’m not sure if she would still be my girlfriend, or even my friend, at this point.

I had seriously spooked her out when I tried ‘introducing’ Stephanie to her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she actively shunned my company. I’m truly not surprised.

I put the ring on again. Stephanie appeared, and much more vivid than she was earlier.

“I need to tell you something, Steph.” I said.

She nods.

“I need to move on, and I need to stop thinking that I disappointed you. I need to stop thinking that I let you down as a friend. I need to stop thinking that you had no fault whatsoever when we broke up as friends.”

“Aaron, you’ve never disappointed anyone more than yourself.”

“Why so?”

“Because you keep pulling ME out from your subconscious. You get so lost in your desire to see your deceased friend, you have blinded yourself from someone who just loves you so damn much.”

“And precisely…why I want to move on.”

She was slowly becoming more faint in image. She was becoming blurry as an image.

“Can you really do it? Can you really get rid of the ring totally?”

“I can’t. Not totally. I will always keep it as a keepsake of you.”

“But you will move on?”

“I will, Steph.”

Tears were streaming from my eyes. Stephanie was getting less vivid and more blurry, more faint as I continued talking.

“Aaron, I’ll always love you, my dearest friend.”

I nodded. I knew it was just me talking to myself, but I continued. She was barely a wisp there anymore.

“As will I. Steph?”

“Yes?”

“This is the day. I’m strong enough. I don’t need you anymore”

She smiled. A gentle but distinct smile.

“Good.”

I got out of the car. I guess that it’s time to face my fears.

_______________________________

If it was one thing that I always kept on my desk, no matter what. It would be Benjamin’s diary. It was a cute diary with a picture of both of us on the cover, and he would write in it whenever he felt something strong. In that aspect, he would never write anything juicy or worth reading, because he knew that I would steal and read it when he wasn’t home.

I would flip the pages and just read pages upon pages of material. I would smile because so many was about how content and happy he was with his life, with barely any mention of his supposed “secret.”

Of course, NOW I know he’s gay, and now that I am aware of that knowledge, so much about that diary just made sense now. So much about the diary entries just resonated with that fact, and I would always smile reading about it. It was like an old tune in my heart, something familiar.

When I flipped the pages of the diary, I would be overcome with nostalgia. I would tear up and I would laugh, because so much about that diary was about me.

It was always about how much he would write about growing up. He diary would remind me of a twin brother I used to have to share all that with. I would always manage to flip to a page that directly fit a situation I was in, or an emotion I was feeling.

Benjamin was the best brother a reckless, attention-seeking and brash girl could ever have, and there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t miss his cookies, or his loving care for animals, or his reassuring, deep voice that would echo and boom into my ears with advice.

There isn’t a day where I don’t miss him singing Queen songs with me. Or when he taught me the more advanced guitar tabs or strumming techniques. Or the day where he tried playing a song with a coin.

There’s just so much I will miss about having a twin brother. In many ways, people are right about losing their siblings, and their twins.

It truly does feel like a part of you has been ripped out.

And when I fear and despair, I would always read his final diary entry:

“ _Dear Diary,_

_And also Andrea, considering you ALWAYS steal this diary. :P_

_I wrote this right after you gave me that whole pep talk and how I’ve finally revealed that I’m GAY. I can finally write this in here without fear of you finding out._

_Rea, you don’t know this, but I feel so much freer, and I feel so liberated. I’m still so scared of telling Mom and Dad, but I think that you’re right. There isn’t a reason in the world why I should be afraid to live the way I wanted. I shouldn’t be afraid to tell them and get them to accept me for who I am._

_I don’t usually say this, sis. You’re the best sister in the world, and no one else in the world can ever replace you in my heart. You’re my best friend, my twin sister, and I’m glad that you’re here with me._

_Thank you so much for accepting me for who I am._

_I won’t lie. I’m scared as all hell for tonight. I’m afraid of telling our parents that I’m gay, and I’m afraid of so much. I know that God will protect me in this decision, and I know that our parents love us. I know that they will love me as much as they love God, and I thank you for being here with me._

_I will overcome my fear like how you overcame that Rollercoaster._

_Never give up hope, Andrea, because you’ve given me so much over the years._

_You’re my sister, and I will face up to this choice._

_-Benjy”_

I would always end up crying, because it’s one of the few things I have left of Benjamin. I would always cry at the point where he tells me that I was the best sister in the world. I would always cry at the part where he just writes so happily that he was gay. I would always cry because Benjy never got that chance.

I will never give up hope, Benjy. I will never forget how much you’ve loved me.

Tonight, Benjy. Tonight’s show is for you.

I got changed. It was time for my gig. No.

Our Gig, Benjy.

____________________________


	8. Regret

_A few years earlier._

“So, Andrea? Do you have a plan at all?”

I had just had a discussion with Benjamin. He had just come out the closet to me, and after our usual jamming session, we were getting washed up in time for dinner.

Except that tonight, dinner will be a lot different. See, Benjy’s deciding to come out the closet fully, and out himself as gay to our religious nutjob parents. His fear was real, and I could sense it. There wasn’t anything unnatural about that. Our parents are truly crazy.

They love us though, and I know that they won’t be too harsh on Benjamin, considering that he’s the favourite of the two of us.

“What about we butter them up with good news, or we talk about bringing them overseas? Mom keeps saying she wants to go for a spa-trip. Maybe we could try bringing that up to them, and say that we both want to treat them to a trip overseas, because we’re celebrating your first month on the job?” I said.

Benjamin had just started his job teaching music at a local art school. It was something about the two of us. He chose the arts, because he loved that he could express himself into doing what he loves. I chose the sciences because I preferred the mechanics behind it, I prefer the equations and the math.

It was something quirky about us, logic usually dictates the crazy one be more into self expression, and the more uptight one be more into mathematical expressions. It was like the whole “guess who’s older” thing all over again. That’s why Benjamin was always teaching me about becoming a better performer. He was always giving me lessons on how to sing, and how to strum together with singing, and how to get some rhythm.

“Sounds good, actually…but what if it isn’t enough to win them over, Rea?” he replied. There was an unmistakeable quiver in his voice. There was a true fear behind his words.

It was interesting to see my brother so uncharacteristically worried and scared. Considering that he’s always the stable one when things get bad, I have to say that I suddenly feel his fear.

He’s always been the reliable bigger brother, even if he’s technically younger than me by a few hours. He’s always been the one to take care of me when I was sick, and he’ll be the one defending me when I get into an argument with Mom and Dad. He’ll always be there to take the blame or shift blame to something else. He was the ideal ‘elder brother’ anyone could ever have.

“Hm, let’s think more about it, Benjy. Don’t give up yet!” I attempted to reassure him.

There was once, I lost my new mobile phone, which was the exact same model as the one Benjamin had. We both knew that if our parents found out that I had lost a new phone that they got me as a present, they would flip. They would flip a lot when we were growing up. We lived in constant fear that we might someday get abandoned. Our parents were extremely strict, with Dad being the stricter parent, and Mom defending us when she needed to.

Benjy passed me his phone that night, and because of that, he got into trouble over dinner when they found out that Benjy ‘lost’ his phone. Dad and him got into a row over that, and Dad would argue about how the phone was something that he worked hard to buy for Benjamin, and how he hated how irresponsible Benjamin was with the phone.

I would pipe up to protest, Benjamin would always give me a glare, as if to say, ‘stay out of this, Sis. I’ve got this’.

It was a small incident, and it might seem so irrelevant and insignificant, but it is the perfect story to show how much he would cover up for me and mollycoddle me to the point of ridiculousness. Why would anyone take the bullet for someone else like that? Why would anyone willingly take a scolding like that from their parents?

See. Our parents are crazy. Not the endearing “oh he’s crazy”.

I mean they are CRAZY. Our parents agree with the Westboro Baptist Church’s point on view about homosexuals. I’m pretty sure that they’ve once participated at one of their rallies when they took a trip overseas, and if Mom weren’t half-Asian, they would gladly join the KuKlaxKlan.

They are extremely hateful people, in general, and they protest any form of rights that a man should have to marry or even LOVE another man. They protest any other ethnical group because “they worship pagan deities”. They are just the most religiously and racially intolerant people, and I find it so fucking ironic that they think they can pass judgment on how other people should be treated, and how they want to spread the ‘love of God’, when they themselves are so innately filled with hate.

It just struck me as extremely hypocritical, and if I didn’t have Benjy around, I would have left home so long ago. I would disbelieve any sort of God, or any other divine being, because what God would create people as poisonous and filled with venom like my parents?

I would always argue back my disbelief, because that very same God created my twin brother along with me, to guide me when I need help and guidance most. God ‘works in his mysterious ways’, but God brought a twin brother with me into the world, and I love that he has.

I held Benjamin tightly.

“Andrea, I’m not going to lie, I’m scared. I’m scared of how they will react, and I am very fragile at the moment. I’m afraid that they would disown me.”

It was a legitimate fear.

“What happened to all your bravado, little brother?”

He smirked.

“When I made the full transformation into being gay, I threw it out!”

He hugged me tightly. I wish I could take away all his fears and just be able to guide him on the path without any problem. I wish I could just do everything he’s done for me while we’re growing up. I wish I could take away all this inner turmoil going on his heart. I wish I could stop him crying from the fear.

I sang softly.

‘ _If I only could, make a deal with God._

_Get him to swap our places…_

_Be running up that road, be running up that hill,_

_Be running up that building._

_If I only could, ahh-ah.”_

It was the song, Running Up that Hill, by Placebo. A song that we both learnt together. He would always scream at me when I got a note wrong when I sang it. He would always keep me on my toes to perfect my pitch. He would always tell me that it felt like a song he always sings in his heart when he stands up for me.

“It’ll be alright, right Andrea?” He asked me, tears slowly streaming down his eyes.

I took a tissue and wiped his tears off. I kissed him on the forehead, and hugged him.

“Benjy, you’re my best friend, my only brother in the world, and I will always be here for you. If it won’t be alright, I will be by your side no matter what. Mom and Dad will love you. They always talk the big talk about how being gay is a sin, but they won’t abandon you like that. You’re the prodigal son!”

He smiled slightly, and wiped the tears away.

He nodded and we stayed in silence for a while.

I just wished tonight, of all night, I wished that my parents WEREN’T my parents. I wished I wasn’t born to them, and I wished that most of all, Benjy wasn’t born to them.

“KIDS, DINNER’S READY!” Our mother hollered from the kitchen.

“Are you ready, Benjy?”

“I’m not scared anymore.”

There was a certain conviction that suddenly took precedence. There was a sudden fire in his eyes. A sudden air to him. The same feeling about him that I observe when he thinks of a new tune to play, or a new song that he wanted to work on with me. His ‘inspiration mode.

“Really, Benjy?”

“Here goes nothing, Rea. Try to keep up.” He had a devilish smile. A smile that I usually gave HIM. He had something utterly reckless and impulsive up his sleeve, but I think I’m okay with that. I think I’m fine with us swapping roles just for tonight. I think that I’m fine with following HIS lead for once. I think that I really want to get to know Impulsive-Benjy for once.

I don’t know what has come over you, Benjy. I just hope I can keep up.

_________________________________

Why is he so damn late for dinner?

I angrily stabbed at my steak. It just wasn’t like Aaron to be THIS late for a dinner appointment. Least of all, an appointment with me. It had been a full hour, and he hasn’t shown signs of arriving past a text.

_“Will b late start w/o me ahahah”_

Incidentally, he doesn’t usually type like that. He hadn’t been the same since he broke up with Summer. I had a plethora of things to say about how much I disliked that girl, but knowing Aaron, they’ll probably just get back together after a few months. It gets irritating, because you KNOW that the girl is stringing him along, but I can’t talk him out of it. He’s just so dead-set in “oh I love her” and “you should get to know her better”.

I’ve honestly just written her off, but I think I’ll give him one final piece of my mind about how cancerous a tumor she really is on his life.

And he finally walks into the diner, and joins me at the booth. He seemed a bit more active than he usually is. He was blushing a bit.

“HI STEPHHHH” he greeted.

The idiot had been drinking. Why am I not surprised that Aaron would succumb to alcohol like this? He texted me last night saying he needed to talk about Summer, and how he wanted to stay friends with her and stuff.

“Are you drunk, Aaron?” I said coldly. I abhorred people who turned to the bottle when they felt down. Best friend or not, no exceptions. He KNEW this.

“I’m just a bit tipsy, love.” He smiled at me, flashing a stupid grin. How could he take this as a joke, when I’m obviously so damn disappointed at him?

“You need to stop drinking, Aaron.”

“Why? It makes me feel good!” His voice trailed off, and he just giggled at me.

“Aaron, Summer’s not worth it.”

He stayed silent, and he switched to staring at me.

“Who are YOU, Steph, to tell me who is or isn’t worth my time?”

This was a dangerous part of the conversation.

“LOOK AT YOURSELF. You’re BLOODY drinking your troubles away, which in this case, you broke up with a crazy ex-girlfriend that you should have left so many months ago, and she’s just totally utterly mad.”

“She’s just confused.”

“No, she’s not. If she were, she wouldn’t be dating your colleague now, would she?”

“…How did you know that?”

He glared at me. He didn’t tell me about that story yet, I found out because of mutual friends. I admit to snooping around for information, but if it is to help Aaron to break out of this slump, I would do anything.

“I asked John from work, about Summer. He told me about how her new beau is a nice guy.”

“Wow.”

Aaron clapped his hands slowly, like a round of applause politely given during golf sessions. It was a very sarcastic clap, and I hated every single second that sound reverberates.

“What do you mean ‘wow’?” I snapped at him. I hated it when he turned sarcastic, mean and cynical. He would just be in that mood for a while, and he would be extremely mean to me when I don’t mean any harm.

“I can’t believe you would snoop about my personal life like that, just to find ammunition to use in our arguments. I think that you’ve just reached a new low, Steph.”

“I did NOT snoop around ‘just to find ammunition’, Ronnie. DON’T you dare say that.”

“Then WHY?” It’s because I love you, Ronnie. I really don’t want to see you hurt.

“Because IT HURTS ME TO SEE YOU FUCKED OVER. It hurts for me to see you just so fucked over by some slut who isn’t worth your time, and I’m just so disappointed that you would go back to the bottle just because of Summer. I’m disappointed that you would not break out of this slump.” I shouted. The people around us were trying to avoid looking, but I could feel them just wondering what was going on.

“So you think YOU can judge me and my friends, you think YOU have the right to snoop into my personal life instead of asking me instead?”

He shouted back.

He got out of the booth.

“Where’re you going?” I whispered.

“Away from you, Steph.”

He walks out, and I’m left behind with tears. Why couldn’t he see that I love him. Why couldn’t he ever fucking see how much I miss him when he walks away? Or when he just leaves me.

He was not ‘just’ my best friend. I love him.

___________________________

I can’t believe she would do something like that. It’s the morning after, and I think that I just get angrier every time I think about it.

I GET that I disappointed her, and I get that I wasn’t good enough to keep my cool. I just don’t like having someone be such a controlling bitch with my life. Not even Stephanie. I don’t want anyone to ever have a pull on my life like that. I rolled over in bed to find my phone, and I started texting.

“ _I think we need some time apart.”_

A few minutes later, I got her reply.

“ _I guess we both do.”_

And that was the end of it. I finally got rid of a crazy bitch in my life, and I finally found it in myself to move on from Stephanie. I think I’m proud of myself.

Summer was so right about it. If I never got rid of Stephanie, and if I never moved on from how poisonous she can be, then I might never grow past that. I might never change and I would stay here until I recovered or Steph filled my head up with more poison.

I’m still a bit angry that Steph would snoop about my life like that just to find out what’s going on with me. Why couldn’t she have just ASKED me about it? We’ve known each other for 9 years. I’m just so annoyed that she would choose to snoop around like that. I’m just so annoyed that she was so blatant and how she just up and told me. Who does she think she is?

I know that deep down, I don’t want her to go, but I have to move on. I don’t need for someone to control and manipulate me like THAT just so they can feel better about themselves. I don’t need to have someone to keep me around just so they can feel so much better about themselves. I don’t need Stephanie.

Afterall, she’s just my best friend. She was.

___________________

Time stops and time flows when you don’t want it to. For that night, dinner just went by so fast. Mom’s pot-roast got cut up and devoured so fast. So much faster than Benjy and I were comfortable with.

“So, Mom, Dad. Andrea and I were thinking of bringing the two of you overseas for a spa-vacation.” Benjamin said awkwardly.

“Really, love? That sounds beautiful! Mom needs a good massage.” Mom said cheerfully.

“What’s the occasion?” Dad said bluntly.

Your Son coming out of the closet, for one, you old ninny.

“Well, it’s been a month since I started at the school, and I wanted to treat to you and Ma to something, so Andrea came up with the idea!” Benjy replied.

Dad snorted. Mom glared at him.

“Richard, Benjamin’s trying to be nice, can you be nice for once?”

“I just don’t think it’s wise to celebrate a month at a new job, son.”

It was ALWAYS like this. I can’t understand how MEAN Dad can be.

“Well, then I think we should let the kids treat us this trip, don’t you?” Mom said, as she got up to clear the dishes.

“There’s something else to this, isn’t there?” Dad whispered. I think he could sense it in our tone. If it were something annoying, it would be that we both inherited the ability to read the moods and tones of other people. He was right. There WAS something else.

Benjamin nodded simply. He calmly gestured for Mom to take a seat.

“There’s something else to this, yes.” He said. It was weird at how calm he was being. All the panic and fear from half an hour ago was gone. I held his hand tightly. I could feel him gripping onto it tightly.

Dad and Mom both looked at Aaron. Glared, maybe. They could sense that this news wasn’t going to be easy to announce.

“Dad, Mom,” Benjamin said. He looked at me, and I nodded. “I’m gay.”

And in that instance, everything broke. The invisible strings of tension just holding it all together, it broke. Just from there, time stopped still for a good 10 minutes. Our parents just glaring at Benjamin, as they slowly realised that this wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t a prank, and wasn’t an elaborate lie that we were telling them.

Dad started crying. And for a second there, for a moment there, I thought that there might be hope yet for the two. I thought that they would just hug Benjy, and tell him that they’re here for him. I held out, because my father was showing emotion.

I could almost see it, it was the picture perfect conclusion to all of Benjy’s fears. It was the picture perfect ending to this ending, to a movie.

…I merely forgot that this wasn’t a movie. This wasn’t the finale to a sweet family sitcom. This wasn’t going to end happily.

“We’ve raised the two of you well. Where did I fail?” Dad whispered.

“You didn’t, Dad. You haven’t failed at raising me. I’m a Music teacher, and I’m part of a successful band. I think you succeeded too well!” Benjy tried joking to lighten the mood. It wasn’t working.

I looked pleadingly at my mother. She shook her head.

“I don’t have a son.”

Benjamin ignored Dad. He tried the last remaining hope in the room, and he looked at our mother.

“Mom?”

“No son of mine would ever want to lie with another man.”

With that, whatever hope was lost. I remember why we lived in the real world.

In the real world, people like my parents will persist and will continue to be.

Dad stared at Benjamin.

“Pack your things up, and leave my house.”

“But Dad!”

“Get out of my house. Homosexuals aren’t welcome.”

Benjamin nodded.

“Then I’ll get out of your lives then.”

He left the dining room and went to his room. I gestured to leave to accompany him.

“Where do you think YOU are going?”

“To be with my brother when he needs me.”

“If you go be with him now, I won’t hesitate cutting you off.”

I was afraid. Dad was a strong man, and he could hurt me physically. I stayed in my seat, out of fear. I’m sorry, Benjy.

Dad glared at Mom.

“It was because of you, that he turned out like this. If only you encouraged him to take up sports and not music, or something girly like that. It was because of YOU, woman, that our son is gay.”

“How dare you. You bought him that guitar when he was 9, and he hasn’t gotten rid of it.”

This sickens me. It absolutely sickens me that people like these are my parents. People usually talk about how the world is filled with people who are plain evil, and how people like the Westboro Baptist Church exists.

I talk about life with them.

We stayed in that dining room for a good hour. It was essentially my parents screaming at me for not matchmaking Benjy up with any of my gal-pals. It was them screaming how I should have nipped this behaviour in the bud, and how this was my fault, because I was his twin and I should have known.

Even if I had, I wouldn’t have told them. I would never have told them, because this secret was something Benjy had to tell them.

In that hour, the front door hadn’t been opened.

“Go check on that person, Andrea.” My father growled.

I went upstairs. Benjamin’s door was locked. I had the spare key, so I turned the lock, and opened the door.

He was there.

I went numb when I saw him. I remember just screaming out in anguish and in grief, and I remember our parents coming up and realising what had happened. I vaguely remember someone calling an ambulance, and I remember how that upon taking him down, they had pronounced him dead on the spot. I remember how they gave me a blanket for shock, and how I wouldn’t move from the spot. I wouldn’t move away from Benjamin. I remember just holding onto his body, and just crying so damn much. I remember that night so vividly.

His eyes closed, it felt like he was just asleep.

I would just nod or shake my head to anything that they asked of me. I didn’t care, I wasn’t going to move away from Benjamin. I wasn’t going to forgive my parents for the rest of my life. I will never forget the night I lost my twin brother.

___________________

(Present Day)

I’m finally at the door. It’s weird, it’s just the door into a bar, but I realise that throughout all that, I need to move on. I will never be more apologetic for not realising someone else’s feelings, but I need to move on. I need to stop thinking that I disappointed someone who loved me very much.

I need to stop having this complex it won’t work out, because Stephanie’s gone. Whether I like it or not. My best friend is dead, and we never reconciled. She was right, and I should move on.

Dr. Kendra was right.

I need to let go.

__________________

I started my gig, and I start playing.

Benjy, this is for you. I will always miss you, and I will never stop regretting not following you up. I will never stop regretting that I could have done something more for you.

I will live, Benjamin.

_“When all you’ve got to keep is strong_

_Move along move along, Like I know ya to_

_And even when your hope is gone_

_Move along move along just to make it through”_

Aaron walked into the bar.

I need to move ahead, Benjy.

_________________


	9. Hug.

_Hey._

_I know we’re not talking or texting, right now. I just wanted to leave a message._

_Promise me that you won’t mope about, and be happy, k?_

_I’m sorry._

-Andrea to Aaron

_________________

 

Walking into the Oily Spoon after 3 weeks seemed so odd. It felt as if I were walking into hostile territory, except that the waitresses were all still welcoming.

The only difference is that Andrea was playing, and her voice lent a feeling of dread to me. I needed some alcohol.

I took a seat at the bar, and Uncle Joe greeted me.

 

“Aaron, it’s been a while.” He smiled, pouring me my usual martini.

He served it to me.

 

“Indeed it has, Uncle Joe.” My eyes trailed to the stage. He chuckled heartily.

 

“She’s been doing alright, Ronnie.”

 

I wanted to interject and pretend that I wasn’t interested whatsoever by what Andrea’s been up to. I had wanted to pretend, but at this point, would it really matter?

 

“Really?”

 

Uncle Joe nodded and smile.

 

“She visited Benjamin a few times. Spent a few days off just talking to him or something. She’s a lot better since 3 weeks ago.”

 

“Benjamin?”

 

“Her twin brother. He died about a year ago, and she’s been torn up about it for a long time. I say that she’s been getting better since she came into the city and stayed with me.”

 

I realise that it made so much sense now. So many things seem clearer, now that I think about it.

 

“Do you know what happened?”

 

Uncle Joe nodded. He pat me on the shoulder, and refilled my drink.

 

“Everyone cracks from time to time, Aaron. It’s precisely the reason why you punched out Damien on your first visits here, wasn’t it? It doesn’t change our friendship, son. A bar is a place to sup, a place to talk about your sorrows with a world-worn bartender. It doesn’t change your relationship with my niece.”

 

I smiled and went back to my martini. He started to polish a glass absentmindedly, and poured himself a beer with it.

He came out from his place behind the bar, took a stool and sat down next to me.

 

“Her singing’s beautiful, innit?” He mused.

 

I nodded.

 

“Honestly, Joe? I keep feeling that there’s just something missing to her act. It feels like something has always been missing and she’s been slowly finding her own sound because of it.”

 

He hummed along to her song sadly.

 

“It’s because Benjamin isn’t here to do the music with her anymore, son. Benjamin was the best backup singer, and bass guitarist for her. He was truly a good musician, and he taught Rea everything she knows. The poor girl has never forgiven herself for letting Benjamin die.”

 

Andrea was singing beautifully. She was singing the song, ‘Move Along’.

 

Uncle Joe fished around his pocket for his wallet, and he flipped to a picture of a preteen Andrea, a boy I presumed to be Benjamin, and a himself. They seem to be playing with a guitar.

He passed it to me, and pointed.

“This was taken a good 8-10 years ago, this was when I first gave Andrea and Benjamin guitars of their own. I taught them the basic chords and the basic riffs that every guitarist should know. I like to think I kindled their interests in music.”

He smiled warmly, and he continued.

“Then Celia and Richard decided to move out to the more suburban places, and I started barely seeing them at all. I can understand why, but I could never convince Celia of anything, that stubborn sister of mine.”

 

“Is that why Andrea chose to come stay with you?”

 

“Andrea chose to stay with me, because she confessed that she just doesn’t trust her parents anymore. Rather understandably. My sister can get a bit crazy. Doesn’t mean that seeing their only son hanging from a rafter would shock them out of their religion.”

 

I nodded. So much of it made sense now.

 

I played with my ring, and made eye contact with Andrea. She was finishing a song, and smiled at me. Was I ready to explain to her about my side of things?

Was I ready for this?

 

I realise that I am.

“This is how it should be, right?” I whispered to the ring.

 

I can’t help but think more about Andrea’s guilt. Her pain. Why would she feel so responsible for her twin brother’s death?

 

__________________________

 

I had to admit that when I saw Aaron walk in, I felt my heart melt all over again. His messy hair, his eyes, his stare. He gave me a quick smile and went to the bar, and spoke a bit to Uncle Joe.

Uncle Joe joined him, and they seemed to be chatting. Uncle Joe showed him a picture from his wallet, and I couldn’t help but smile. I couldn’t help but realise that Uncle Joe was giving him some advice of sorts. Perhaps to do with me.

 

When I finally finish my song, I took a break and put my guitar down. I smiled brightly at Aaron, and he was playing with the ring around his neck. Part of me feared that ring. I fear the power it has on his psyche.

I push that fear to the back of my mind, because I had my best friend back.

 

I ran to him, and just gave him a hug.

I felt tears stream down my face. I felt a warmth spread in my chest, a gigantic feeling of security, in his arms again.

 

“Andrea, we need to talk.”

 

I nod. I realised I had started sobbing softly into his chest. He kissed me on the forehead, and held me tightly. He said my name with such tenderness.

I felt nothing but peace. I felt at ease.

 

“I know we do. I have so much I want to tell you too, Aaron-but I’m still working.”

 

“It’s fine, you two love birds.” Uncle Joe said in his booming, deep voice.

 

“Uncle Joe…?” I asked.

 

“Before I started hiring singers and bands, I used to play on stage by myself, as I got my staff to serve the customers. I think I’ll be fine covering your shift, my dear.” He smiled.

 

I hugged Uncle Joe tightly.

 

“Careful, you hug me any tighter, and you’ll crack my back!”

 

“You’re not old enough yet, you old man!” I joked.

 

Joe looked at Aaron

 

“Now young man, you bring home my niece before midnight, you hear?” He said in a mock-parental voice to Ronnie.

 

I look at my watch, and I realise it’s already half past midnight.

 

“Except that it’s already PAST midnight, Uncle.” I said to Uncle Joe.

 

Joe looked at his own watch, and chuckled.

 

“…FINE, then use protection.” He winks at Aaron.

 

“UNCLE JOE.” Why does he ALWAYS have to embarrass me like that?!

 

“GET OUT OF MY BAR, YOU TWO.” He gestured for the both of us to leave.

 

Aaron looked at me.

 

“Well, my lady? Shall we?”

 

I nod.

 

“We shall.”

 

______________

 

_Dear Aaron,_

 

_I dreamt of you last night. I dreamt that we managed to reconcile again, after all this time. I dreamt that you held me again and that we were friends._

_You know how I previously wrote in that other letter? I would be with you even after death? You’re one of my best friends, and even after so long, I still wish that some day, we could be reconciled. I still pray so hard to God, or whichever deity is correct, that we will be reunited, and if I die before I had that chance, I think that when I do die, I will request for the ability to protect you as a spectre, spirit, or ghost. I will request for the ability to be your personal guardian angel._

 

_I would always watch over you, because I don’t think I can ever forget a love for someone, and I don’t think I can ever forget how much I love you._

_I would always be with you, until the day you are strong enough to not need me, and even when that day comes, I really would love to meet you future. I would keep tabs on you and your future family, and I would like to stay with you as a guardian angel._

 

_I know it’s a naïve thought, and I know it sounds creepy. I guess that I just want you to know that I’ve always got your back, even if you don’t have mine. I will always back you up in so many ways, because I feel that our relationship is just bullet proof that way._

_We will reunite on the road someday, I know it._

 

_So until I see you again, take care of yourself._

 

_I love you._

 

_-Steph._

 

________________

 

I drove all the way up the beach. Andrea talked to me as I drove, and it seemed for a second, that the past 3 weeks hadn’t happened. It felt very good to have her company again, and I told her how happy I was to see her again.

She briefly held my hand, and told me that there wasn’t anything special about two friends reconciling.

Except that this time, there is. I’m overcoming my fears and I feel so much better, so much healthier.

 

Andrea smiled, and we got off the car.

 

“I think that you’ll want to leave your shoes in the car, Rea.” I said.

 

We were going to walk along the beach and talk. Our shoes would just get dirty should we wear them.

She nodded, and took her shoes off.

 

We made our way to the beach. It was empty, at this time of night. It was calm, peaceful, and the crashing of the waves were the only sound we could hear for miles around. It was the perfect setting for a good talk.

 

We started walking near the waves. Andrea smiled at me.

 

She stopped and hugged me tightly.

 

“I don’t think much needs to be said, Aaron.” She smiles.

 

“I’m sorry for freaking you out like that, Andrea. I truly am.”

 

“No, Aaron. I’m sorry for bailing on you when you most needed me. I’m sorry for not sticking with you when you started breaking, and I wish you could forgive me for leaving you.”

 

She was at the verge of tears. It was obvious where her guilt came from. I remember what Joe said to me earlier, about Benjamin, and how she has never forgiven herself for it. How she carries that burden of guilt.

I just hugged her.

 

“Andrea, it’s okay. You’re with me, and you’re in a safe space, so long as I am around. I promise you that you never have to feel so much guilt, because I forgive you. You mean the world to me, Rea. I’m sorry for breaking apart. I’m sorry for suddenly burdening you with me.”

 

Andrea held onto me tighter. She lowered her head and buried it into my shoulder.

 

“No, Ron. I let you down, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for not being more understanding of Stephanie dying, and I’m sorry for being crippled by fear. You can’t hide me from all that anymore, because the more I hide and I have something or someone secure to hide behind, I will always hide and never face up to my fears.”

 

She looked at me. Her face was a mess from the tears, but she has never looked as beautiful as she did in that moment. She looked so human, and vulnerable. She looked so absolutely beautiful.

 

I close my eyes and kiss her, and she kissed back.

 

“Just shut up and kiss me, beautiful.” I whispered. My hands were on her neck. I moved her fringe aside, and kissed her on the forehead.

 

“What if I’m not good enough?”

 

I shook my head.

 

“Impossible. You’re a good person, Andrea. One of the best, and I trust you with my life. So smile, it will get better.” I replied.

 

She held my hand, and we kept walking.

 

____________________

 

It was a simple kiss, but just with that, I calmed down. I felt so safe in his arms, and I think I know that he’s someone I want to be with for a long while.

 

It was all true, I harbored so much fear of letting Aaron down. I fear that I might lose him the same way I lost Benjamin. I will never stop fearing that someday, when I don’t follow someone I loved in this world, they would leave someday. They would up and leave.

Yet in that single kiss, in that single sentence, I felt safe.

 

Aaron is aware of how afraid I am of falling and failing again, and he just takes all those concerns and worries away with a hug. I truly believe him now. I truly feel that he will always protect me from everything, and he will always serve to give me a safe space.

 

“Aaron?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“All that time ago, when you told me you loved me. Did you mean it?”

 

“I did. I truly did. It wasn’t something impulsive, or something I just felt chemically or psychologically. In that instant, I knew that it wouldn’t mean much, but I truly enjoyed our relationship. I truly do love you, Andrea, because you’re my best friend, and I loved us, and I was committed to you.”

 

“I’m not sure if to believe you and your glib tongue.” I joked.

 

“Well, I meant it. Truly!” he smiled.

 

“Alright, I’ll believe you.”

 

“What about you?”

 

“What about me?”

 

“Do you truly feel the same, when you said that you loved me too?”

 

I nodded.

 

“I do feel the same, Aaron. I feel so safe in your arms, and I feel so safe when you smile at me, when you bring me on crazy trips. I feel safe because you’re my best friend, and nothing in the world that I know of, can change that fact.”

 

“Can we go back to that?”

 

I smiled, and hugged him again.

 

“You deserve to be happy with someone else, Ronnie. You’re a good man, and I wish for you to be happy. I am broken and I don’t think I can do this.” I said. My voice broke halfway through. I did mean it, I wanted for him to be happy.

 

“Except that there can be a bazillion women I can score with, and I’ll still want to be with you.”

 

“I’m broken, Aaron. I truly am, and I don’t ever want to be a burden to you and leave you when you need me most. I don’t want to leave you feeling alone.”

 

“Andrea. You took flight because you didn’t feel safe. You went away because for that instant, I was a person who was a danger to you. Physically, Mentally. I wasn’t right. I wasn’t going to make you feel safe.”

 

“What if I fail you again?” My words hung in the air.

 

“You can never fail me again, because you’re here with me right now. I’ve been broken, I’ve been jaded, and absolutely shattered in the past 6 months. If it means that I have to be all those things all over again just to be with you here, and now, I would be okay with doing all that, because you mean a lot to me. I don’t ever want to lose you, and I don’t want you to sacrifice your happiness-OUR happiness, because of some self-justified cause that you aren’t good enough for me, because woman, you are way out of my league.”

 

“But…”

 

“No buts, because you mean so much to me, it would hurt to see you leave because of your lack of self-confidence even after I reassure you so much. Andrea, Can we go back to how we used to be? Can we go back to being Andrea and Aaron? Can we go back to being in love?”

 

I was about to protest, but I realise that it was useless. It was true that this man wants me as much as I want him. He means the world to me as well, and I feel secure in that fact.

 

“Of course we can, Ronnie.”

 

We stopped and took a seat down on the sand. I really couldn’t care less about my shorts, because I was going to put it in the wash later anyway. I had spilled some beer onto it earlier.

 

“Ronnie, I wanted to tell you, I have a past that directly contributed to my fear of you just snapping and going. I was so afraid that you might end up the same way as my twin brother.”

 

Aaron nodded.

 

“I know. Joe told me a bit about Benjamin. He was the one who taught you most of your music.”

 

“He taught me much more than that, Aaron. He was my teacher, my twin brother, and he would always have my back when push comes to shove with our crazy parents.”

 

I sat there, wordless. I don’t particularly want to talk about Benjy now. Aaron had a good look at me as I finished that sentence. He could sense my discomfort.

 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about him now, Andrea. I understand fully.”

 

“Thank you, babe.”

 

“Andrea. You mean the world to me, and I will never let you go again. We all have our past. I have my own too, and I really wish to tell you more about it once I’m ready. When that day comes, we will share our sorrows, fears, and guilt. We will move past it together.”

 

I wiped my tears away again. This boy has a way to just make me cry over and over again.

 

“The key is to not be afraid, to live.” He whispers.

 

He kisses me, and I melt into him all over again.

 

___________________

 

_“Humans are cowards in the face of happiness.” A quote from Kamikaze Girls, one of the numerous movies I watch._

 

_How true. Whenever we’re bestowed with happiness, our instinct kicks into overdrive. We are just so ironically afraid of happiness that we pursue, that when we finally get it, we use self-sacrifice as an excuse to ignore the happiness we do have, and sacrifice it for someone else out of love._

_Sometimes, it might be because we want our beloved to be happy. Other times, we’re just so afraid that Happiness isn’t all that cracked out to be, that we let go of it._

 

_Humans are truly cowards when they are faced by true happiness. We find excuses to believe that we don’t need what we find. We find excuses to not want it._

 

_Let’s say I want to be with the best girl in the world, but I choose not to be with her because I feel like I’m inadequate. That’s me being a true coward, because that’s all I want most in the world. I want to be with her, but I tell her to find her beloved because I am not good enough to be with her._

_I don’t believe in that. I believe in staying and sticking with the person you love, if it makes you happy. If it makes you happy to be by her side, I think that you have the courage to truly live life._

 

_Everyone wants to be altruistic. Everyone wants their beloved to be happy, and at times, it might seem that your leaving their life might be ‘for their best interests’. That is to say, I don’t disapprove of altruism and self-sacrifice, except that I find it overrated. I find it unneeded in 50% of cases._

_After all…who are YOU to decide what would be ‘for their best interests’? Who are you to decide whether they want you there or not? Who are you to judge your own worth to someone else?_

_No one, because THAT person chooses how much they want you with them. It is up to THEM to decide that they want you around, and it just isn’t right to leave when they might want you so much._

 

_For all you know. Sticking by their side through thick and thin is all they wish for in a true relationship. That is all they might wish for._

_It takes two hands to clap, after all._

 

_I just wish I could find the courage to pursue my happiness, because that’s all I ever want to be-Happy and Content with who I am._

 

_-Benjy._


	10. Past

It’s cute to observe him sleeping. I would wake up a good half an hour to an hour before he does, and I would hug him tightly, and give him a kiss before going to wash up. It’s been 6 months since we first met, and 4 months since that day on the beach. It’s been 4 months of dating, and I still haven’t found the time to show him and tell him more about Benjamin.

He’s been understanding of it, and I guess that’s the same reason why he hasn’t said a word about Stephanie.

 

It seems surreal, I can go into the kitchen on a Saturday morning and cook eggs and bacon, and it feels natural. There isn’t a remnant or a reminder of that night with Aaron and his terror attack. There isn’t anything that reminds me of that night, other than the ring around his neck. I can spend the entire weekend with Aaron, and it feels so natural and real. It feels like nothing can go wrong, and like nothing ever happened in the first place.

There isn’t a reminder of anything, and I like that we can have a fresh start like this.

 

I realise that there’s just too much of our own personal history to ever have a properly fresh start. We need to start opening up our pasts and fully understand each other.

I don’t believe that we can move forward, if we don’t move backward to understand the other more. I feel like I’ve just been dating the good parts of Aaron, and I think that it’s come to the point of our relationship where I want to find out more about Aaron. I want to find out everything about him. I want to love him, and I want to love every single facet to his personality, his past, and his present.

 

I want to show him Benjy, and everything that he meant to me, because part of me knows that somewhere out there, Benjamin is watching me, and guiding me.

 

I served the eggs and bacon on the dining table, and Aaron hugs me from behind.

 

“Morning, beautiful.” He whispers.

I would pat his head lightly.

 

“Morning yourself, sleepyhead.”

 

He takes a seat at the dining table.

 

“Why did you cook breakfast? I was suppose to do the cooking today!”

 

“I don’t see you hesitating to eat anything, babe.” I smiled and went into the kitchen to get a pitcher of orange juice.

 

It was incredible how Aaron could even LIVE without me around. His kitchen was barely stocked before meeting me.

 

“Ron, do you have plans for our date today?”

 

He shook his head, as he munched on his bacon and eggs.

 

“Not really, do you have a plan?”

 

“I do. I think that it’s time we explored our pasts. I think that it’s time we start talking about Benjamin and Steph, and I think that we need to really start hitting our stride as a couple, because I really love you.”

 

It was clear I was getting a bit flustered. Benjamin has always been a trigger for my nervousness, and Aaron could sense it. He got up from his chair and held me from behind.

 

“I agree, hon. I think that it’s time, and that we should.”

He was exceedingly gentle. I loved that he knew my vulnerabilities. I loved being vulnerable in front of him, because that’s all I’ve always wanted-someone to understand that outside of my fierce outer layer, I was still just a scared girl.

 

“Thank you.” I said gingerly.

 

“You don’t have to thank me. So, I’ll go get the dishes done, and then we’ll get changed.”

 

He kissed me on the cheek. It was time to get moving then!

 

__________________

 

_“Well, Benjy. It’s been an epic battle, and I think the two of them finally have enough courage to continue with their journey, don’t you think?” said Stephanie. She played with her wings of sorts. They were merely decorative, at this point._

 

_Benjamin nodded. He smiled as they both looked down on Aaron and Andrea._

 

_“I am more afraid of Aaron and whether or not he’ll crack.”_

 

_Stephanie took her glasses off and polished them, before replacing them._

 

_“I think that we’ve gotten past the worst parts of this story, angel-boy.” Stephanie smiled._

 

_“I still find it funny that you refer to me as ‘angel-boy’ when it has been established that there aren’t any abstract concepts of good and evil. Quite literally, established by Word of God.”_

 

_Stephanie breathed in deeply. Again, a useless action. There wasn’t a need to breathe or drink or to do anything to sustain her current state of being._

 

_“They’ll be okay, right?” Stephanie said aloud._

 

_“They’ll be just fine, Steph.” Said Benjamin. He opened a portal, and invited Stephanie to step into it first._

 

_She went in, and he followed._

 

_“They’ll be just fine.” He whispers, with one last glance at Aaron and Andrea._

 

____________________

 

I find the idea interesting, that Andrea and I would take turns showing each other spots of each of our pasts. We would take turns behind the wheel, and we would explore bits of each other.

 

I don’t think it counts as particularly romantic, nor does it particularly count as much, but I felt that it was something we both needed and wanted to do. We bought some flowers on the way to wherever we were going. Andrea bought a selection of flowers. Orchids, irises, and lilies. I had a good idea on where we were headed, so I bought some too.

 

Andrea drove out to the outer parts of town, and we parked at a cemetery. The town only had one main cemetery, but it was on a rather big plot of land. We both stepped out of the car, and she held onto my hand. I held onto hers, as she slowly led me into the rows of tombstones.

It was beautiful, in a way, that so many people have fallen and are now resting. Their bodies might decay, but these tombstones held onto so much about them.

 

We were all human.

 

We slowly walked in, and eventually, we stopped.

 

I saw the look on her face, and I held her.

 

I looked at the grave she had brought me to.

 

“ _Here lies Benjamin._

_Brother, Best friend,_

_Brave Protector.”_

 

It was simple, succinct and a clear expression.

 

“Hi, Benjy.” Andrea said. She seemed at peace with the fact that I was here with her. She held my hand, and smiled at me.

 

She lowered herself and laid the flowers onto the soft earth.

 

“I brought your favourites. You’ve always said that flowers should reflect the recipient’s smile. I brought flowers that you always said made you look beautiful.”

 

She smirked. It seemed like she were making a joke with her brother.

 

I stayed silent, and held her hand.

 

“This is Aaron, my best friend, and boyfriend. Also the first person I brought to see you. I’m not alone anymore, Benjy. I’m not, and I promised you I will continue to live. I’ll be fine.”

 

Andrea hugged me.

 

“Do you want to say anything to Benjy, Ron?” she said to me.

 

I nodded.

 

“Hi, Benjamin. I’m Aaron. I’ve been with your sister for a while, and she’s been here for me. I wished that I could have met you. I will protect her, and be by her side. I promise.”

 

Andrea smiled, and kissed me on the cheek.

 

“Well, Benjy, take care of yourself. We have other places to get to.”

____________________

 

“Benjamin hanged himself about a year ago.” I heard myself whisper to Aaron.

 

He was leading us to a different grave, and he stayed silent.

 

“Was there a reason why?” he asked.

 

“My parents. I can only think of one reason. Them.”

 

He didn’t probe. He led us to a grave, Stephanie’s.

 

It was adorned with colour. It had a picture of her, and she looked beautiful.

 

The words on the headstone read:

“ _Here lies Stephanie._

_A person of hope, dreams and courage.”_

 

It was similarly succinct. I suppose that in cases of sudden death, the family of the deceased are usually too shocked to want to write a long and elaborate sentence for the headstone.

 

Aaron left his flowers on her grave.

 

We slowly made our way back to the car, it was clear that Aaron wanted to stay silent.

 

We went into the car, and I unpacked lunch. Sausages, Mash and Salad. I also brought a flask of Cola.

 

“I figured that we would be on the road the whole day, so I packed lunch.”

 

“She committed suicide because of me.”

 

I put the lunch boxes down.

 

“He died because I was too afraid to run up to his room and tell him that he means so much to me.”

 

“I guess that means that we both hold enormous amounts of guilt about our dead brethren.” Aaron said softly.

 

I nodded in response.

 

“But why do you say that it was your fault, Ronnie? You two weren’t friends at the very end, right?”

 

“Precisely why it was my fault. Had I been there at the end, if I hadn’t argued with her, Rea. If I didn’t, Stephanie would still be here.”

 

“You know that’s insane troll logic, right? You know that had you been there, so many variables would have changed.”

 

“It doesn’t change the fact that I wished I could have been there for her. It doesn’t make me feel any better about her dying, and for a good while, I was alone in my own battles. I was alone in feeling like that.”

 

I just stared blankly at him, and kissed him on the forehead.

 

“Baby. There are so many things in the world that we could have changed, but didn’t. It’s no point living your life like this, and always regretting.”

 

“There isn’t a day that goes by with me not forgetting that I could have done something more.”

 

“STOP IT, Aaron. These things happen, and we’ve moved past it all.”

 

“…You’re right. I’m sorry.”

 

He took a sausage and bit into it.

 

“Ronnie. There’s always something more we could have done, but you have to learn to face up to it. WE have to learn to face up to it. I could have stopped Benjy, but I didn’t because I was afraid of my father. I was afraid he might hurt me physically if I ran out and held Benjy as he cried when our parents rejected him. You could have stopped Stephanie, but you didn’t because the both of you were equally afraid to reconcile.”

 

“I know, but it gets so hard.”

 

“It does, but we’ve both made it through, and I will not let you go back into that. She chose her path.”

 

“I guess that I was just being a bit whiny there.”

 

I shook my head. It was natural.

 

“So, ready to hit the road again?” I smiled.

 

He nodded.

 

____________________

 

We entered a studio of sorts. It was adorned with pictures of Benjamin and Andrea, along with Uncle Joe. The building was at the outskirts of town, but it was well furnished. The building looked really nice.

 

“This was the place where Uncle Joe would teach Benjy and I all about music. He passed Benjamin the keys when we turned 16, and since then, Benjy would come here to be alone, and whenever we had an argument with our parents, we would come down here to play our worries away.”

 

It was well kept, as a space. It was padded with soundproofing on the walls, there was enough space for a drum set, a bunch of amplifiers. A sound system.

It was a truly good set up, and there were a bunch of guitars hanging on a rack of sorts.

 

She picked up a guitar, plugged it into an amplifier, and started playing a few chords, and adjusted the volume accordingly.

 

“This was the place I felt most home at, whenever Uncle Joe or Benjamin were here. For a good while after he died, I stayed nights here, because it still felt like he was here. It felt like whenever I played a song here, or sang my heart out here, he would still be in the sound control room, and looking and smiling at me. It felt like he would be behind that two-way glass, smiling at me and I wouldn’t be able to see it.”

 

“You still come here occasionally?” I asked.

 

“I was here almost constantly when you first left me. Those 3 weeks, I came here everyday to play my music.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

She smiled.

 

“You don’t have to be, dear. This. This was me.”

 

______________________

 

_Dear Aaron,_

 

_Looking back into the past isn’t taboo. It should never be taboo between you and your partner. It should always be discussed and even explored, so you understand each other better. Where some motivations come from, where each of you explore your past dreams, past hopes, and your past beliefs._

_I think that it is one of the things that you two should do to truly progress as a couple._

_One of the most intimate things a couple can truly do isn’t to have sex._

_One of the most intimate things a couple can do is to sleep with each other, and to accept each other as a person. Accept each other fully as people of equal amounts of fears, hopes and dreams. Recognise that the person beside you is someone you trust with your life if it came to it. To understand that the person sleeping beside you is someone who would be willing to be your best friend, and to share in your burdens and your happiness._

 

_A true partner would share and partake into the same fruit as you do, whether it be poison or not._

_That is what true love is. It isn’t always about self-sacrifice. It is about compromise and walking through everything together as partners, be it romantic or platonic. It is about being able to count on another being for help when needed to. It is about having a healer on a team of melee fighters. It is about having them heal you while you battle the big bad guy._

 

_That darling, is what love is._

 

_I just hope that I will someday be strong enough to heal you again, when you need me to. When you need me most, just like how we used to._

 

_Take care of yourself._

_Lots of love,_

_-Steph._

 

_________________________

 

We’re back at my apartment, and we were both cuddling up. It had been a long day.

 

“Thank you.” I whisper to Andrea.

 

“No, Aaron. Thank you.”

 

“We faced our fears together today, didn’t we?”

 

“We did.”

 

“Andrea, I just wanted to you know that everything we talked about. My past, Stephanie, all the pain and regret and guilt. I won’t argue that it is a part of me. It’s a part of who I am, and it was my past. That was me. I was like that once.”

 

“I know. I showed you the equivalent of my own.”

 

“I want to be with you now, and I want to continue fighting all that.”

 

“I know-“

 

“And I want you to move in with me.”

 

She was silent for a moment, and then she kissed me hard.

 

“Of course I will. I will, you dummy!”

__________________

 

_“It never gets any easier, Benjy.” Said Stephanie. She had tears in her eyes._

 

_“It never does. It never does to know that we’re here, and they’re there.” Said Benjamin. He was smoking a cigarette, overlooking Aaron and Andrea._

 

_“For a moment there, when they were at our graves, I had wanted to hold them so much. I had wanted to hug them and tell them that we would always be watching. We would always be their guardian angels.”_

 

_“Except that these things don’t happen that way. We’re not in some magical dream or story, where the dead have a second lease of life. We aren’t in a video game where respawning is a regular occurrence.”_

 

_“Death isn’t cheap, huh?” asked Stephanie._

 

_Benjamin nodded somberly._

 

_“I still can’t believe that whatever I believed in the afterlife when I was still human, turned out to be wrong…yet right at the same time.” He said._

 

_“I find it funny to know that there IS a sense of justice about this whole system. Remember the Hitler exhibit?” she replied cheekily._

 

_“It was good to know that there was still some justice left in the afterlife.”_

 

_“If there wasn’t a sense of equilibrium in the afterlife, then what was the whole point of existing, my child?” asked a booming voice._

 

_“I don’t know, God.” Benjamin replied and smiled._

 

_“Things are always left to the hands of their creators. Your friends are creating their own fate. All those times where you assumed a miracle was being performed, it was always because someone was watching over you and pulling the strings of it to help you. Exactly like how you’ve been doing for the two of them.” Said the voice._

 

_Stephanie nodded._

 

_“You only live once, huh, big dude?” she asked._

 

_“Nah. You can choose your own path. To live, not to live. That isn’t the real question. The real question is, ‘what is important to me?’” said the voice in a cheerful tone._

 

_“I guess that Mr.AngelPants here and I have our answers for now.” Said Stephanie._

 

_She smiled, and she flew off._

_Benjamin joined her._

 

______________________

 

_If it’s something I truly do believe in, it would be the idea of always knowing that somewhere out there, that will always be someone willing to fight your battles with you._

_There will always be someone out there who serves as your other half, and that other half is fighting their equivalent battles to get to you. It was a dialogue spoken of by Plato, that Zeus split humans into two, dooming humans to find their other half to complete them as a person._

_The ending scene of Puella Magi Madoka Magica:_

 

_“”Don’t forget._

_Always, somewhere, someone is fighting for you._

_–As long as you remember her, you are not alone.”_

 

_That final scene resonated with me on so many levels._

 

_Part of me realises that I might never have someone who would be willing to fight so hard for me. I have Andrea, sure, but eventually, even my sibling will go off to date someone. She would eventually fight battles with her partner._

 

_I am too afraid to continue living this lie, but who really, would bother to call me?_

 

_Who would stop me from offing myself, should the day come? Andrea, she would._

 

_What if Andrea is too late?_

 

_I guess that I’m truly pathetic some nights. This is such a depressing entry._

 

_-Benjy._


	11. ...And Found

I walk into the Oily Spoon as per usual. Andrea had gone off for a meeting with some record company official that Joe set her up with. I had been urging her on trying to get a proper record deal with a company for ages, because I think she has it in her to be a rockstar. She had been arguing with me about it, saying that if she went famous, I might not want to go with her on her concerts.

Silly girl.

 

I sat down on a barstool in front of the bar. Uncle Joe looked up and smiled.

 

“How’s it going, champ? I got yer call.” He pours me my usual whisky, and he pours one for himself. I wonder how he manages to make a profit, always pouring a drink for himself when we talk. He takes a seat beside me, just like he usually does.

 

“I needed to talk to you about Andrea, Uncle Joe.” I said sheepishly. He had a gentle giant aura about him, but I’ve always been afraid to slip up in front of him. Uncle Joe had the physique of a well trained body-builder.

 

He lifted a hand and I flinched. He pat me on the shoulder. He sensed my flinch, and pat me again harder, whispering that it never got old.

 

“You’re a good kid, Aaron. Ask me anything about my niece. I’ll try my best to answer.” He tried alleviating the mood. I was still tense and nervous.

 

“Joe, I want to speak to Andrea’s parents, and I want her to talk to them again.”

 

In that moment, the string snapped. His smile turned upside down, into a frown. It was as if a switch was flicked, a berserk button. His eyes narrowed, I swear I could see a few of his veins pop out, pulsating.

 

“That cannot be arranged.”

 

I was afraid of what this hulk of a man could do to me, but I decided that it was worth putting my foot down for. I sipped my whisky, and stood my ground.

 

“Why not.” I replied coolly.

 

“Celia and Richard do not exist in my nor Andrea’s books anymore, Aaron. They killed my only nephew. They killed Andrea’s only brother.”

 

I then thought back to Benjamin, and the pages Andrea would read to me about how he was like. The pages of his personal diary, that Andrea would read to me. She would tell me of everything good about her twin brother, about how he was the calm for the storm that was her.

 

“No, Joe. Benjy killed himself with a heap of rope, a rafter, and a chair.” I said. I was afraid that it might have crossed the line.

 

It seemed as if I managed to lower his guard. He seemed to collapse like a balloon figure with the air let out.

 

“Joe, if anything, I wish I could have met Benjamin. I wish that I could have found out what he was like, first-hand. He seemed to be the nicest person a guy could have, but I need to talk to Andrea’s parents.”

 

Joe started to tear up a bit.

 

“Why would you want to associate yourself with scum like them, Aaron? People like that don’t deserve to live.”

 

“We can leave that to their divine fates. We can’t always keep hating them for killing Benjamin, because even if they indirectly caused his death, he died by his own hand. Just like my friend Stephanie.”

 

Joe nodded. He reached across the bar for the whisky bottle, and refills both our glasses.

 

“Son, I’ve never had children of my own.” He started talking in his booming deep voice.

 

“And why’s that? I don’t get how you could be such a good fatherly figure to Andrea and Benjamin without experience.”

 

He started laughing in his booming, deep laugh.

 

“It was because I’ve seen a lot in my life. I was to be married, at one point. I fell in love with a girl, and she died.” He pulls out a locket from under his shirt, and opens it. In it was a picture of a girl of about 20 years of age. It was yellowed and dated, but still in good quality.

 

“What was her name?”

 

“She was named Jennifer. My darling Jenny. She died at the age of 25, in a car accident.”

 

I sat that quietly, not knowing what to say.

 

“I’m sorry for your loss.” I whispered.

 

He smiles sadly, and sips on his own whisky.

 

“’Tis okay, son. That’s why I’ve tried my utmost bad to be a good uncle to Andrea and Benjy all their lives. I’ve always guided them the way I felt was right. Teach them music, teach them how to handle and deal with emotions getting them down.”

 

“And you’ve done an amazing job, Joe. Truly.”

 

He smiles and blushes a bit.

 

“You use that glib tongue on my niece a lot?” he prodded me.

 

Now or never.

 

“That’s why I’m here. I want to marry her.”

 

There was silence, and then he hugged me tightly.

 

“That’s why you wanted to speak to her parents??”

 

I nodded.

 

“Then why didn’t you say anything, you ass?”

 

“Because you went all ‘I Kill YOU’ on me, how was I supposed to react?!” I said indignantly.

 

Joe started laughing like a madman. I found myself slowly joining into it. It was a bit funny.

 

“Tell you what. We’ll close the bar today, and I’ll bring you to see them. I trust that you already have a plan to bring them to meet Andrea?”

 

I nodded.

 

“She’s out of town until tonight to see that Record Company, remember? You set her up with it.”

 

“You have your car with you?”

 

“Andrea took it with her.”

 

He nodded.

 

“We can use mine.”

 

Joe fished for something in his pocket. It was the keys to the studio that Andrea uses. It was natural that Joe had the spare keys to it.

He hands them to me.

 

“Now that I have a nephew-in-law of sorts, I think I can trust you to keep the keys in the family, no?”

 

“Technically, I haven’t even PROPOSED to her yet, Joe.”

 

“EH, she’ll say yes for sure. I trust that she will, because you’re a catch. If she doesn’t want you, I don’t mind having your ass.”

 

“Didn’t know you swung that way.”

 

He looked at me, and checked me out mockingly.

 

“I don’t.”

 

“Welcome to the family, Son.”

 

I gave him a bro-fist, and then a proper hug.

 

“No, Uncle Joe. We’re not family. We’re friends.”

 

He smiled.

 

“Of course we are, son.”

 

“I’m not calling you Dad.”

 

He chuckled.

 

“Give it time.”

 

___________________

 

I wonder why Aaron was so insistent on getting me out of the house. It was as if he were trying to chase me out of the house for something, this morning. He even got up to cook me breakfast, and nothing screams suspicious than Aaron waking up earlier than me and COOKING BREAKFAST.

 

Maybe he’s surprising me by getting his place cleared up for once.

 

I’m at the Green Circle Record Company for an interview and audition of sorts with the CEO. Apparently, Uncle Joe knows the CEO from the bar. It was an interesting story. The CEO had liked that Joe always injected local talent at the bar, and apparently…Benjy was to meet up with him some time. That was all Joe told me about this CEO guy.

 

Of course, now that Benjamin isn’t around, that leaves me.

Uncle Joe had always preferred Benjamin’s music to mine, but something seems to have triggered his change in opinion. When I asked him about it, he only said that ‘I finally understand pain and how to deal with it’.

I don’t understand. Before I met Aaron, I was dealing with pain. What makes the old coot say that I can’t deal with it until now?

 

My name was called, and I introduced myself to the CEO. He had a bodyguard. The bodyguard gave me a look over before whispering into the guy’s ear.

Here I’m thinking: I have a guitar. What could I possibly do? Launch out sonic waves with my magical guitar and kill him with the power of music?

 

“Hi sir, I’m Andrea.” I shook his hand. The bodyguard seemed to pop a vein when I did.

 

He sensed that the bodyguard tensed up, and reassured him that I was okay.

 

“I’m sorry for that,” he gestured to his bodyguard. “William can be a bit jumpy around new clients.”

 

“Ah, it’s no problem.” I smiled. Who WAS this guy? Why would his bodyguard be jumpy?

 

“I’m Leonard, one of the head honchos for Green Circle Records.” He introduces himself. He seemed to be a nice guy, around 50 or 60 years of age. He reminded a bit of Yoda. A short, wise old man, introducing pearls of wisdom. For some reason, he seemed to be a person I was perfectly comfortable with.

 

He gestures to a room. A coffee table and a few seats. He leads us into it, and gets a lady to serve us coffee.

He orders William to leave us in privacy. William nods and stands guard outside.

 

The door shuts behind us.

 

“Joe tells me that you play well, girl.” He says cheerfully. He seemed to be a cool old man, from first glances.

 

I nod nervously.

 

“I mainly play songs I write, or songs I feel that reflect perfectly to the emotions I feel. My twin brother taught me that emotion and feeling was everything about music.”

 

He smiles, and taps his foot.

 

“Would you play me a song about losing a loved one?”

 

I nodded.

I took out my guitar, and tested my strums a bit. Tested to see if my strings were out of tune.

 

“That is a rather old acoustic guitar you have there.” He remarks, leans forward to observe me tuning it. He reaches for it gently, and I passed him the guitar.

 

He tweaks it and observes the minor scratches here and there. It was Uncle Joe’s personal guitar, and he gave it to me when I was 14.

“The problem with old guitars like these, are that they get insanely hard to maintain. The wood slowly warps as time goes by, and tuning gets to be an almost daily thing.” He whispers, as he tunes and tweaks it.

 

“I know. It was a gift from-“

 

“Joe. Joe gave it to you, didn’t he?” He interrupts.

 

I nodded.

 

“How did you know that?”

 

“Because this was the very same guitar that Joe used to serenade Jenny.” He smiles, and strums a few chords. He passes it back to me, and I strummed it a bit. It was perfectly tuned.

Who WAS this guy?

 

I played a song, and I started singing.

 

“ _Not a day goes by,_

_Where I don’t miss you…_

 

_Not a day goes by, when I don’t wish you were here._

_You were truly a person I felt home with._

_Without you there it seems so empty._

 

_I will never forget how much you changed me._

_I should move on._

_That’s why I’m singing this song._

 

_In the hopes you can hear it, so that you know_

_I’m alright._

_I will be at least.”_

 

His eyes seem to well up and tear gracefully. He clapped slowly as I finished my song, and he smiles.

 

“Leonard, are you alright?” I was genuinely concerned, I made an adorable old man cry.

 

“Yes, yes, I’m alright.” He takes out a tissue from his coat pocket, and blows his nose.

 

“So, how did I do?”

 

“You did well, Andrea. You have truly grown and changed.”

 

“How did you know I’ve changed?”

 

He smiles and takes out his phone. He shows me a picture of my first performance at the Oily Spoon.

 

“I was there for your first performance. You’ve changed, and I think you’ve found the sound you were missing.”

 

“Does that mean-“

 

“Yes. It means that I’m signing you on, girl.”

 

I moved forward and gave him a hug. Then I realised that killer-dude outside would want to kill me for hugging his master of sorts. I attempt to pull out from the hug.

He smiles and hugs me back.

 

“You’re just like Joe.”

 

I was wondering about that comment. How did this guy know Uncle Joe?

 

“How DO you know Uncle Joe?”

 

“Oh, didn’t he tell you? Joe and I used to be in a band together!”

 

Uncle Joe very rarely talked about his band. It had been so many years ago.

 

“Thank you again, Leonard.”

 

He smiles.

 

“You can call me ‘Uncle’ Leonard, if you wish. Any of Joe’s nieces and nephews can call me Uncle too.”

 

“Thank you again, then, Uncle Leonard.”

 

I can’t believe it. I have a contract!

 

__________________

 

It was an interesting experience, to see how Andrea lived her life. There was a lawn, a backyard, a pool…A swing, and even a treehouse. It was one of those suburban dream homes, and I was surprised that it could all fall apart.

 

Joe beckoned me to the front door, and I stood there with him. He rang the doorbell, and a nice old lady answered the door.

 

“Joe, this is a surprise.” She said. Her tone was tinged with a bit of fear.

 

“Celia.” Joe nods, and acknowledges her.

 

“This is?” She looks at me.

 

I smiled and shook her hand.

 

“Hi, Ma’am. I’m Aaron. I’m Andrea’s boyfriend.” I introduced myself.

 

She nods and gives me a quick look.

 

“May we come in?” Joe asks.

 

“Sure. Richard just came home.”

 

She invites us into the living room, and I took a seat on the sofa. Joe sits down beside me, and points out the different family pictures.

He takes a picture of Andrea and Benjamin and shows it to me. Andrea was hugging Benjamin tightly, and Benjamin seemed to be reluctant to hug her.

They couldn’t be more than 12 in the picture, and it was a heartwrenching sight.

‘Did you know that all this was coming, 12-year old Rea?’ I thought to myself.

 

Pictures are simultaneously beautiful and gut-wrenchingly ugly to look at. On one hand, it reminds you of a happy time, on another hand, it reminds you of a happy time you once had.

 

Richard and Celia come into the living room, and take a seat. Celia serves us some tea.

 

“Richard.” Joe said simply.

 

“Joe.” He replies and nods.

 

I shook his hand.

 

“Hi sir, I’m Aaron, Andrea’s boyfriend.”

 

He shakes my hand and grunts in response.

 

“So, what did the girl do this time?” He asks rudely.

 

“It would behoove you to be nice to house guests, Richard. Especially to a man like Aaron.” Joe lashed at him.

 

“Would you two like to have dinner at our place tonight?” I said.

 

“Why in tarnation would we do that?” Richard replied.

 

“Richard. Stop it.” Celia whispers dangerously. Richard backed down.

 

“Because, I want the two of you to make up with Andrea.”

 

My sentence hung up in the air for what seemed like an eternity.

I decided to break the silence.

 

“I want to propose to her, and I know how she’s estranged to the both of you. I just felt it was right to ask for her hand in marriage from her parents, before I tried anything.”

 

For the first time in the conversation, Richard seemed to break his ‘scary Dad’ persona. He suddenly seemed so broken, so at a loss for words.

 

“HOW can she ever forgive us, child? We were the homophobic parents that killed her Twin Brother. Her evil parents that chased him out of the house, out of our lives, and quite literally, he did.” He replied.

 

Celia started crying.

 

“It’s not like we never wanted to try making it up to her, Aaron. She pushed us away, understandably.”

 

I nodded, Joe moves to Celia and hugs her. There has been enough damage and destruction done. All I could feel was a deep sadness in my heart, because I understood their side. I could understand how hard it would be to reconnect with a heart like Andrea’s.

I can understand why Andrea would never want to associate with her parents again.

 

“Celia, Richard. There was once, I had a close friend, and I didn’t make up with her. She passed away, and I never had a chance to say sorry. You guys can never make it up to Benjamin in this life, but you can still try with Andrea.”

 

“Don’t you SEE, boy? Andrea doesn’t WANT to talk to us.” Richard snaps at me.

 

“It doesn’t mean you can’t try. Just because you’ve failed once or twice, it doesn’t mean you outright stop trying once and for all.”

 

It was an armor-piercing statement. It was also true.

 

“Fine. We will come for dinner, we will try again.” He whispered. He was defeated.

 

Celia wiped her tears.

 

“For the record, Aaron. You have our approval to marry our daughter.”

 

I was a bit taken aback. They’ve only met me once! How could they approve of me like that all of a sudden?

 

“Why so?” I asked.

 

“You had the balls to come see us.” She replied.

 

____________________________

 

I’m still so euphoric from getting that record deal. I drive home, and I noticed that Uncle Joe’s car was parked outside. Could it be that he already got the news and is preparing a celebration party of sorts? It seems likely that yoda-dude would drop Joe a call to tell him that I got the deal, right?

Except that wouldn’t Uncle Joe be down at the bar? It was Thursday, afterall. Thursdays aren’t THAT busy, but busy enough to remain open, wouldn’t it?

 

Ah well. Knowing Aaron, it’ll just be steak and salad. I don’t understand why he still prepares me salad when he knows that I would barely eat it. He can get SO naggy sometimes.

 

I open the door to the apartment, and kick my shoes off. I holler out.

 

“BABE I’M HOME”

 

He grunts in response. He’s probably cooking.

 

I get out of our shoes area, and I walk into the living room. I see Uncle Joe, and two merciless, cruel people smiling back at me.

 

Aaron comes out to greet me.

 

“Why the FUCK are they here?” I just ejaculated at him. I was so filled with fear, anger and sadness just from seeing them. Why? How?

 

“Hon, they’re here to talk about us. It’s alright!” He tries to calm me down. I was inconsolable. How could he bring them into our home? How could they agree to come back into my life?

 

“No. It’s not alright.” I said to him. “This shit is not fucking cool, Aaron. I don’t want them in my house-OUR house. I don’t want them in here.”

 

“Will you just calm down, and just talk to them?”

 

No. I will NOT ‘just calm down’ and ‘just talk to them’, Aaron. I will not do that. They killed my only brother. They drove my brother off the edge, and he HUNG himself because of them. No, I will not calm down and talk to these people, because they are DEAD to me.

 

“ANDREA can you just calm down and listen to your mother and I?” My father shouts at me.

 

“No. I will not do just what you want, because I am not your daughter anymore. You are not my father anymore.” I replied. It was true. I have no father. I have no parents who would just disown their child for being homosexual. I will never understand them, and I don’t believe I ever came from that vile man’s seed.

 

“Andrea, would you please listen?” my mother asks of me. Her voice was cracking.

I don’t want to shout at her. If anything, she was the nicest one of all. She was probably taken in my my father all those years ago.

 

“Get out of my house, homophobic bigots are not welcome.”

 

They got up from their seat on the sofa. Aaron gestured for them to stay seated.

 

Fine.

 

I walked out. I can’t deal with this now.

 

_________________

 

“That went well.” I said sarcastically.

 

Uncle Joe looked at me. I glared at Celia and Richard, then I slowly deflated and took a seat on one of the sofa chairs. I can’t fault Andrea’s reaction. I didn’t chase after her either, because she needs to be alone. She would shut off if I ran after her to talk to her, anyway.

 

Celia and Richard were at a loss for words. I couldn’t blame them, their only daughter, and only child just walked out on a supposed reunion.

 

“I think I’ll get Celia and Richard home, Ronnie.” Joe said. He understood too well where his niece’s anger was coming from. I think he read the situation, and realised that I would need some time to process it.

Today was supposed to be happy, it was supposed to be a heartfelt reunion between long estranged family. Parents and Child. It was supposed to be like those movies, where everything would look right in the movies. It was supposed to be euphoric, even, where I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me.

 

Of course, I always kick myself in the end when I realise that I’m not as genre-savvy as I make myself out to be. This is real life, after all. Not some cute little romance comedy movie, or some harlequin romance novel.

 

I opened the door, and saw the 3 of them out, and I saw them drive off, and I realise that Andrea had taken the car some place. I checked my watch, it was nearly 10. She would want to be alone.

 

I decided to take a shower, to try wash off some of the fatigue. It had been an interesting day, I had met my girlfriend’s parents, made an interesting impression. I had gotten to know more about Joe’s past, and oh yeah. My girlfriend pretty much walked out on the dinner I was using to propose to her with.

I suppose that part of it was my fault.

 

I slowly retire to the living room to catch something to watch on the television. I notice slowly, how quiet home now was.

 

I needed Andrea.

 

I dialed her cellphone. It kept ringing until it hit voicemail.

 

“I’m sorry for springing that on you, we need to talk. Please call me back.”

 

I tried again. No answer.

 

“Please call me back.”

 

With each time where my phone was led to voice mail, a panic built up. What if she wasn’t coming back? What if she was pissed off enough to not want to talk to me again?

I left about 15 voicemails before I just threw my cellphone to another sofa, and I let it bounce onto the floor. What did it matter if I had a cracked cellphone when the love of my life wasn’t answering? Especially when I was intending to ask to marry her?

 

I decide to reach for my ring. It still hung around my neck, but I hadn’t used it since…a good 6 months ago. I haven’t spoken to Stephanie in ages. It wouldn’t hurt to ask for guidance again, would it?

 

____________________

 

_“Now?” Benjamin asked._

 

_“Neit. Not yet. I will appear though. I will manifest, but briefly. Just enough to push the idiot out to find her again. Not enough for him to go back into therapy. I’d say that he can’t talk to the FakeSteph from his subconscious anymore.” Andrea replied._

 

_“How do you mean?”_

 

_“The Steph from previously was merely from his subconscious. Except that this time, his subconscious is fully healed. It is healed enough so that ‘FakeSteph’ doesn’t ‘leak’ out into his perception of the world.”_

 

_“Then he wouldn’t believe that it’s you, right?”_

 

_Andrea shook her head._

 

_“This time, he will know that I am true, and real. See-He left out something when he made FakeSteph up. He left out that I was never as beautiful physically, than he always believes.”_

 

_Benjamin couldn’t help but tut in disapproval._

 

_“You are fully aware that Manifesting to humans takes up a heavy amount of our Life Force?”_

 

_“I am aware. I am fully aware, and I think I am okay with that at the moment.”_

 

_Benjamin sighed. It was hard to convince Andrea out of something once she had made up her mind._

 

_____________________

 

I put the ring on again. It had been 6 months since the last time.

 

Ghost Stephanie wasn’t appearing. She didn’t appear like she used to. Could it mean that I’m healed? That I was no longer in my manic state from previously?

 

I was about to take it off, until Ghost Stephanie manifested in front of me.

 

“Steph?” I whispered cautiously.

 

She looked different. She seemed to be wearing regal attire, for some reason. She seemed to have wings, and she seemed a lot less pretty than I had remembered.

 

“For the first time since I died, it’s me, Aaron.” She said. Her voice seemed higher than I remembered.

 

“Is that really you?”

 

She nods.

 

“This time, it truly is, but there isn’t enough time for explanations.” She said sternly.

 

“What can I do now? Andrea’s mad at me.” I said. I was at a loss. It was the first time that this has happened.

 

“You were READY TO MARRY HER, you idiot. Are you really going to waste your time here moping, instead of chasing after your girlfriend to help her?!”

 

“What if she wants to be alone?” I replied. I was at a true loss. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

 

“NO girl wants to be alone like this after a huge emotional upheaval. NO one wants to truly be alone, so stop sitting here and go find her already.”

 

“I don’t know where to look!”

 

“You’re her boyfriend and best friend. You know the places she’s been, so for GOD’s sake, stop talking to me and wasting your time, and go out and find her.”

 

Stephanie disappeared. She was right. I needed to put my foot down once and for all. Andrea needs me.

 

I took off the ring and left it on the table. Now was not the time for the past, right now, it was time to find my present, and future.

 

____________________

 

I had no car, and I had no idea where to go, and then I remembered-The studio.

I had the keys to the studio, and I could take a taxi.

 

I flagged down the next taxi I saw, and I arrived to the studio building, with my car parked outside. She was here.

 

I used the key, and opened the front door. I entered the control room, and sure enough, on the other side of the glass, there Andrea was. She had plugged in a pair of noise canceling headphones, and she was playing her heart out. She was just playing a sick guitar solo, and she was lost in the sound.

 

I opened the door to the recording room, and she stopped playing, and took the headphones off.

 

“What do you want.” She said coldly.

 

“I want to talk.”

 

“Oh, right, just like how you went to my parents place behind my back, and went to ‘talk’ to them too, right? What lies did they feed you this time? That I was the anti-christ? I find that incredible, considering that THEY are pretty much the epitome of satanic.” She replied sarcastically.

 

“Look, Rea. I get that you’re mad at me, but can you just calm down and listen to me, please?”

 

She sat there, glaring at me. She was signaling me to continue, no matter how reluctantly.

 

“I spoke to them, because I thought that they have gone through enough of their time without their daughter. I thought that you might want to have her around. They were your parents, afterall.”

 

“So you thought to do that without my permission, guidance or opinion? Why did you visit parents that I have clearly DECLARED to be estranged from, and ask them to join us for dinner without asking me first? Were you bloody THINKING at all, Aaron? Were you thinking about how I WOULD FEEL about having the people who killed my twin brother AROUND in my home?!”

 

“Admittedly, it wasn’t that well thought out a plan.” I admitted sheepishly.

 

She pinched the bridge of her noise.

 

I shut up for a while. When she was doing that, she was thinking extremely hard about the situation at hand. It wasn’t exactly the best situation to be in, and she was thinking hard.

 

“I loved that you had the balls to go into the dragon’s den like that, Aaron. I really am impressed that you would approach my parents after everything terrible I said about them.” Andrea said.

 

“Then, why are you so mad at me? I really want to know, because I don’t like seeing you flipping out on me like that. I don’t want to piss you off, because honey, you’re important to me.”

 

“Because you didn’t give me a good reason why, we didn’t go see them TOGETHER, and you sprang that on me right when it was supposed to be a good day. I got the record deal! I was having an absolutely smashing day, wondering what surprises you had in store for me tonight.”

 

“I’m sorry, Andrea. I really am. I should have spoken to you beforehand, and I shouldn’t have just sprung that on you.”

 

She nodded, and hugged me.

 

“It’s fine. It really is, love. Don’t put it all onto yourself, I’m sorry for screaming and shouting at you like that. You don’t deserve to be treated by me like that.” She whispered.

 

“Good. See, there was another reason why I went to your parents, and Uncle Joe like that.”

 

I reached into my pocket, and I opened the ring box.

I got onto one knee.

 

“Andrea, will you marry me?”

_____________________


	12. Good-bye.

Is it cliché to admit it? Is it really so overdone when I say that the longest time you will ever wait for anything, are the seconds right before a marriage proposal? The seconds before she replies.

When you are in the exact same position here as I am in that moment, on one knee, with the words out of your mouth, everything and everyone around you just seems to dilate into a pocket of time-space. You wonder about her answer. You are filled with dread and fear for her rejection. You are filled with excitement and hope of starting a new life with her.

Funnily enough, in the second before she replies, and when her face is just filled with all the shock at you finally popping the question, in that second, your world just STOPS.

 

What would she say? Would she say yes? Would she say no? Would she tell me that she would love to get married to me, but she already promised that jock from my high school days that she would marry him?

Would she conjure up some magic voodoo clause that says she can’t marry a mortal?

WAS SHE A SUCCUBUS?!

 

Her mouth opened. It sounds weird when I say something like that, but her lips moved, her vocal chords started vibrating to give me an answer.

_________________________

 

“Yes. GOD yes.” I said. I was excited. I was happy. This was the magical day that every little girl has wished ever since she was explained the idea of marriage, the idea of getting married.

The magical princess and prince fantasy. The idea of being whisked away by a dashing prince on horseback, to a castle.

This was what I dreamt of, with the guy I loved.

 

Maybe we’re rushing it, maybe we aren’t. All I know is that it feels right, and that I love Aaron. I want to spend the rest of my life with him, and I know that to be true. He was my best friend, and I trust him. He can get whiny, he can get extremely needy, but I love him. I truly do.

I’m just glad he finally asked. I’m so surprised that he would ask after a horrendous night as that, and I’m just so overwhelmed with happiness.

I got the record deal, I now have a husband to be, and WOW everything is just going well right now. EVERYTHING was going perfectly. I don’t think I could ask for anything else.

 

I kissed him, and I held him for the longest time I’ve ever held on to him. My world was changing. It was changing so damn much in the span of 24 hours, but I am glad that it was.

My world was perfect now.

 

My world could be whole again, Benjy.

__________________________

 

“So, shall we head back home?” I asked. It seemed as if a gigantic load rolled off my chest. My heart was still pounding. I can’t believe I finally asked her to marry me. We had talked about getting married, but I’m sure that she didn’t expect me to pop the question today.

 

“Hold on, Cowboy. Why did you pick today to pop the question?” She asked. It was a valid question. There had to be a reason why I chose today to pop the question. Why I chose today to get her parent’s approval, and all that drama within one day.

 

“Today is the first anniversary of our first meeting.” I said simply.

 

She started laughing, and then she teared up and started to cry. I was shocked. Why was she crying? What was so bad about today?

I hugged her and let her nestle her head into my chest. She hugged me tightly.

 

After about 15 minutes, she calmed down and stopped crying.

 

“Why are you crying so much?” I joked.

 

“Well, it’s because you’re always so nice to me, even when I’m a total bitch to you. You even remember the first day we met.” She said.

 

“It’s because I love you, dummy.” I hugged her again. She was so cute when she cries. She was so cute when she admits things like these, and it’s always good to hold onto her like that.

 

“You even took off that ring. Once and for all.”

 

I honestly hadn’t noticed it until she pointed it out. I was much more concerned about Andrea’s safety when I left the house. I cared so much more about her safety, and that she was not crying alone.

I guess…I guess I’ve finally managed to let go of Stephanie once and for all. I guess that the ring no longer defines who I was as a person. The past no longer defines me and my future anymore.

 

We walked back to the car, after locking up. Andrea didn’t let go of my hand at all. We got back into the car, and I started driving.

 

Ironically enough, I couldn’t stop thinking about the ring. What DID it mean to me, after all this time? It’s been a full year since Stephanie died. It was a mere relic of a person who is long gone. It didn’t mean a thing to me anymore.

I glanced at Andrea in the passenger seat. She had dozed off. When she fell asleep, very few things could wake her up. I smiled to myself. This woman was to be my wife.

 

I couldn’t help but to let the euphoria within me, just slowly burn. It was a happy feeling. It was a peaceful feeling.

Many people go through their lives hoping to find out what truly defines them as a person. I have finally found that. What truly defines me as a person, was Aaron.

I am Aaron, and I am a person of love. I am a person who would go mad from the death of a loved one, and I am a person who would rise up from the metaphorical ashes of a death, and I would change. I would slowly build myself up and I would love again.

I am a person who is engaged to a beautiful woman like Andrea. I am finally truly proud of myself, because I know that I’ve risen against all these things. I didn’t do it alone, and I have the person beside me to thank. I have Andrea to thank for everything.

 

I checked my fuel meter. It was still quite full. Full enough to drive to a beach resort I knew of.

It would be a nice surprise for her. She deserves a break like this with me.

____________________________

 

I woke up to Aaron still being at the wheel. It was the crack of dawn, but we weren’t home. We were instead, in a driveway of a beach resort.

I looked to my side, and I noticed Aaron was on the phone.

 

“Hello? Yes, Joe. I’ve got her. I will not be returning her unless you pay me a million dollars in ransom.” He said in a mock-serious tone.

 

I poked him. He was making fun of me.

 

“OW, what?!” He exclaimed. It was cute that he jumps when I poke him at the sides.

 

“Ask yourself that, trying to get a ransom for your bride-to-be. I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME.” I replied in a dramatic voice. It never gets old.

 

“Well, considering that you can’t cook for nuts, I think it’s actually socially acceptable if I took back my proposal.” He snarked.

 

I gave him the puppy eyes and then pretended to cry. It was an act sure to win him over.

 

He reached over to me and then held me. It never gets old. Whenever he holds onto me, I feel safe. I feel like the world around me was so alien, because I felt home, with his embrace.

 

“I’m sorry, baby. I won’t leave you just because you can’t cook for nuts…” He says soothingly.

 

“PSYCHE!” I shouted.

 

“GODDAMMIT.” He exclaims with a tinge of fake-frustration.

 

Games like these never get old with Aaron. He would ALWAYS attempt to comfort me when I just acted a bit upset, and I guess that it was mean, but he loved playing along.

 

“So, why are we still in the driveway? Why haven’t you gotten us a room?” I asked. I was curious. Why were we still parked?

 

“Oh, I already have, and I even got the staff to get us some of the merchandise, so that we have a change of clothes.”

 

Aaron was truly thoughtful. I was badly in need of a good shower or bath.

 

He got out of the car. I was stuck in my position of relaxation.

 

“Babe, I’m too tired to get out” I moaned to him.

 

He opened my door and carried me out.

 

“Well, my bride. Shall we?” He said, as he carried me to the entrance. He let me down, and I held his hand tightly.

 

_______________________

_“I still don’t understand why you wish to talk to Aaron, Steph.” Said Benjamin. He wonders why it’s called eternal rest when he has a partner like Stephanie. It was by his own free will, but Stephanie was as reckless as Andrea, maybe even worst. God knows if he didn’t keep an eye on her, she would expend all her life-force within a day._

 

_“Simple. We never got a chance to say goodbye.” Said Stephanie._

 

_“It’s not like I had a proper chance with Andrea, either.”_

 

_“I just need to, Benjy. She was your sister, and she was someone you truly cared about. She was someone you had your life time to know and your life time to say goodbye to.”_

 

_It was an armor-piercing statement. It was true. Benjamin had a long time with Andrea. He had the privilege of appearing in her dreams as and when. He had the privilege of the bond they shared since they were both born._

_Comparatively, Stephanie had little to nothing binding herself to Aaron. They weren’t siblings. They were mere friends._

 

_“Aaron will never forget you.” Benjamin whispers, in an attempt to soothe her. It didn’t work._

 

_“How do we know? He has no reason to REMEMBER me, Benjamin. Someday, I’ll be nothing to him eventually, while you will always be Andrea’s twin brother.” Stephanie was in tears, as she said it. She tried her hardest to ignore the stinging of her eyes. She tried her best to stay resolute in her cause._

 

_Benjamin hugged Stephanie. He sensed the sadness emanating from her core. Spirits aren’t too hard to read into or to predict. It was in their nature to project their emotions to their surroundings, consequences be damned._

 

_“We already committed suicide once, Stephanie. You might very well die after manifesting onto to mortal realm again. You might very well lose everything about you that makes you Stephanie. You will lose everything left of your existence, your BEING.” Benjamin explains._

 

_“I think that for once, it would be worth it, just so I can say goodbye to him one last time.” Stephanie smiles, the saddest, most beautiful smile anyone could ever give._

 

_I guess, Benjamin thought to himself. I guess that this was what I meant when I said that the most radiant and most beautiful smile one could give, was when they realise and fully understand that their loved one was happy. With or without your presence. With or without your influence, even._

 

_“I guess that this is what Alpha meant when he said that so many Spirits end up exploding on themselves. They drive themselves so crazy from the realisation of their death, the end of their mortal lives, that we just end up with them joining up with Alpha.”_

 

_Stephanie regained her composure, and wiped her tears._

 

_“I am resolute in this, Benjamin.” She whispers decisively. Her voice was filled with sheer conviction. A dangerous and powerful conviction. There was a sheer fire in her eyes. Benjamin resonated with it._

 

_“I know. That’s why I’m not stopping you, my dear.” He replied._

 

________________________

 

6 months pass, and it’s already the day before our wedding.

 

Andrea went back to Uncle Joe’s place to stay for the half week. We had been through countless wedding rehearsals, and it was customary of sorts to not see the bride until the wedding itself.

I missed her. We would usually be watching something cheesy on TV and then start having a spirited conversation about ancient dinosaur farts, or something as equally random.

 

There was one night, we started talking about how the laws of robotics do not govern emotional harm, therefore, Robots could be total jerks to us and it wouldn’t go against the laws of robotics if emotional damage dealt causes a human to commit suicide.

I miss the girl, but I’ll be with her tomorrow.

 

For everything you say hello to, you must have had to say goodbye to something else. Akin to the idea of how some things must end, to make way for a new beginning.

 

I got to my desk and I opened the drawer. I took out the box that Sandra had given me all that time ago, back at Stephanie’s funeral. It was still filled with the same amount of letters, and a ring on a chain.

 

I riffled through the stack of letters, and I found one of the first letters she had ever written to me:

 

“ _Dear Aaron,_

 

_I hope I got your address right! I just wanted to write this to thank you for being my friend for the past 3 months. You’re a pretty awesome dude, and I loved how you taught me algebra all that time ago._

_I love hanging out with you like how we’ve been hanging out, and I just wanted to tell you that you are a good friend. You’re my best friend, even. It’s okay if you don’t think that I am yours. No pressure, really!_

 

_Did you know that I was so afraid of giving you the sweet? When we first met?_

 

_I was seriously thinking that you were a pretty awesome dude, and that was from our first meeting._

 

_Well, I guess I wanted to admit that I liked you.That’s why I wrote this letter to you._

 

_I really like you, Aaron. I just want to see you so much more._

 

_Yours_

 

_-Stephanie.”_

 

It’s been a long time since all that.

 

I picked the ring up. It was badly scratched over the years, but the engraving was still there.

“The key is to not be afraid.”, Along with the symbol of the Ankh.

 

How fitting that the bond between a dead loved one, and that of a living one was signified, was marked, with the symbol of life. The egyptian key to life.

 

I lightly kissed it, and put it in my pocket.

 

I put on a coat, and I left the house. I went into the car. It was time to end something, to start my life anew. Once and for all.

 

It’s time to say goodbye.

 

___________________________

 

I arrived at the cemetery. It was in the late afternoon, as I slowly walk to her grave. I took along a folding chair, from my car. I think that I would be spending some time there with her.

 

Sandra was there. Stephanie’s elder sister.

 

“Aaron. What a surprise.” She says mildly.

 

We hug, and I took a good look at her. She had been doing alright.

 

“Sandy. How have you been?” I ask.

 

“I have been doing alright, Aaron. I heard you were getting married.” Sandy replied.

 

I nodded happily.

 

“I am. I’m sorry that I didn’t drop your family an invite. I just thought that it wouldn’t be appropriate.”

 

She shakes her head, then she smiled.

 

“Nah, it’s alright. I understand fully why we wouldn’t be invited.”

 

“It’s nothing personal, I hope you understand.” I said awkwardly.

 

“It isn’t, definitely.” She gave me another hug. “You have the right to find your happiness, especially after her death.”

 

“Do you want to pray with me?” I offered.

 

“No thank you, Ronnie.” She gestures towards the car-park. “I need to go.”

 

Sandra walked back to her car.

 

I was alone at Stephanie’s grave, and I was alone at the cemetery.

 

I unfolded my chair, and I looked at her headstone. I sat there for a good 15 minutes, just looking at her headstone, and I started crying.

 

“It’s still hard to believe, some days, that you’re gone.” I say aloud, as if there were someone there to listen to me.

 

“I know.” I hear her voice.

 

She was beside me. Stephanie, how she looked like to me, with angel wings, and an outfit of sorts. I don’t get it. The ring was in my pocket, how was I able to see Stephanie without the ring?

 

“Because the ‘me’ you saw with the ring, was truly from your psyche. It accentuated everything perfect about me, and it left out all the rest.” She says again.

 

“Then, who are you?” I whispered.

 

“Stephanie, darling.” She replied, with a smile.

 

She hugged me tightly. I could feel her again. I could feel her touch, albeit light. She was truly hugging me again, and for a second there, it felt like I had my best friend back.

 

“Stephanie. I came here to return the ring to you.” I took the ring out.

 

“I know. Though I don’t think you really have to or need to.”

 

I shook my head.

 

“No, I have to. Stephanie, I will always love you, and I will always remember our first meeting. I will always remember how dumb you were at algebra, and how we always had fun playing Street Fighter, Metal Slug over at each other’s places. I will always remember how we would sit by that spot and just talk about the future and how I wished I was dating someone awesome.”

 

It was true. I would always remember her. I would never forget memories as sweet as that.

 

“Then why not keep the memento? That ring, and remember me for the rest of your life?”

 

I held the ring up.

 

“Because if I always have something like this ring to remember you and to call on your image from my psyche, I would never move on. I would never be whole again. I would never be someone that Andrea deserves of me, and I would always think back to you for guidance, instead of becoming my own person.”

 

“Do you want…to forget me?” She whispered. Her voice seemed to grow faint.

 

She seemed close to tears, for some reason. I held her like how I used to. Her wings seemed to get in the way of my arms, but it didn’t seem to be a problem. They disappeared around my hands when I hugged her.

 

“Quite the contrary. I will never forget you, Steph. I can never ever forget an awesome friend like you. I can never forget how you used to be.”

 

She slowly seemed to start becoming more faint, as if she were disappearing. She started to kneel down and slowly started falling to her knees. She seemed to be in pain, of sorts.

 

“Steph? Stephanie??” I tried to help her up. She seemed to weight a million tons, and I couldn’t move her physically. The pressure of her weight seemed to hit me far deeper than just physically.

 

Another person materialised. He looked familiar.

 

“DAMMIT STEPHANIE. SNAP BACK.” He shouted at Stephanie. He held onto her, and pushed some energy into her. She held onto him, and he helped her up. She looked gratefully at him, and stood up again.

 

“I guess that this exertion is too much, huh, Benjy?” She whispered weakly.

 

“You crazy girl. You nearly lost all your Life Force.” He said, exasperatedly.

 

He then offered a hand.

 

“Benjamin.” He said.

 

I shook his hand.

 

“We don’t have much time left, Aaron. I just wanted to say this- Stephanie and I have been watching over you and Andrea, and we will always watch over the two of you.”

 

“Then, doesn’t it mean you could be reunited? With Andrea?” I asked hopefully.

 

“No, because materialising like this to our loved ones…it takes a lot out of us Spirits.” He gestured to the wings that he had. They were majestic, yet translucent, as if they could disappear anytime as willed.

 

“You can recover, right? You just healed Stephanie!” I pointed out.

 

“Except that it is a rule. We can only fully materialise once, and only once to a person after we die. That is to say, Stephanie can no longer materialise in front of you after this.”

 

“But…she materialised that day to help me out. She got me off my ass to find your sister!”

 

“Precisely why she’s in such a state right now. She’s at the brink of full disappearence.” Benjamin explained.

 

I nod. I couldn’t understand this injustice. I couldn’t understand the rules, but I realise that Benjamin didn’t write it. Benjamin didn’t write the rules of the afterlife. He merely followed it to the t.

 

Stephanie slowly trudged toward me, and hugged me.

 

“Hey Aaron. Promise me you will find the key?”

 

They were shimmering slowly.

 

“I’ve already found the key- The key is to not be afraid, of life.” I said.

 

She nodded happily.

 

“Until we meet again, Ronnie.” She gave me a small salute.

 

“It won’t be for a long time, Steph. Goodbye.”

 

She kissed me on the cheek.

 

“Treat Andrea well, or the big guy would have your metaphorical testicles.” She pointed at Benjy.

 

“Goodbye.”

 

They were gone, and I was alone again.

 

I took the ring, and pushed it deep into the earth of her grave. I didn’t need it anymore.

 

_________________________

 

_“I see the two of you made it back safely.” Said Alpha._

 

_“Alpha! I’m sorry, we didn’t follow orders. It was my fault.” Stephanie started apologising. She was shocked that Alpha would make a personal visit like this._

 

_Alpha’s expression was inscrutable._

_It wasn’t a smile. It wasn’t a frown. It wasn’t particularly angry nor happy._

_It then shook its head._

 

_“It’s no matter.”_

 

_It flicked its fingers. Stephanie was rejuvenated._

 

_“Are you feeling better?” Alpha asked plainly._

 

_Stephanie nodded._

 

_“Good. Don’t be too reckless ever again. I wouldn’t usually heal someone like that.” Alpha said._

 

_Benjamin gave Stephanie an ‘I told you so’ look._

 

_“I’m glad that you and Angel Benjamin managed to get past it.” Alpha said._

 

_“Thank you, Alpha.” Stephanie said. It felt good to finally erase her burden and finally get over what was holding her back._

 

_It would have been a problem if she let Benjamin again, when he’s in need of her help._

 

_They were partners now, after all. Partners don’t wig out or fail to answer the call when their counterpart needs them most. That’s what being partners mean._

 

____________________________


	13. After everything.

“I’m telling you, Leonard. She is insistent on making sure that there aren’t any potheads, rapists, alcoholics and crackheads in the audience. It’s her first concert, and it’s technically a rock concert, but she doesn’t want anyone in that audience.”

 

Uncle Joe was on the phone with Uncle Leonard. I sipped on my gin and tonic, as he continued talking to Uncle Leonard.

 

It has been 2 years since Aaron and I gotten married, and he’s been working as a teacher at the local middle school. He’s become very popular, especially among the kids. It gets me a little jealous sometimes, especially when I pick him up at the school, where it’ll be about 15 minutes of cheering for “Andrea! ANDREA!” and then the rest will be about how “Andrea’s lucky to be married to Teacher Aaron!”

HELLO PEOPLE, WHO’S THE INTERNATIONAL ROCKER CHICK HERE? I would think to myself, then I would smile because Aaron was truly content with his new job.

My albums have started getting popular, with my first album, “Love, Grief and Finding Hope.”, An album dedicated to how I managed to get over Benjamin’s death.

 

During Valentine’s Days, Aaron would receive a whole box of Valentine’s Day cards from his students, that I would break out laughing.

It was truly cute, that my husband would be so popular as a schoolteacher. I guess that it was petty of me, because these kids would shower more quality attention, than my fans would ever shower me with. I was a bit jealous that he could find such popularity in his students, and when I sat in for a class once, it was clear that Ronnie had a certain rapport with his students that were truly hard to match, especially as the education sector was becoming more stressful by the year.

 

My first official concert was to be in week, and Aaron had gotten leave to accompany me overseas. I was going to be playing in the United States.

 

Uncle Joe put the phone down.

 

“How did it go?” I asked.

 

I was insistent that my concert would be clean from all the horror stories I’ve heard over the years about meth addicts crashing and having a violent trip. I’ve heard many horror stories that, I’ve always vowed to myself-if I ever became a person big enough to have a full scale rock concert, I don’t want scum like that in my audience.

There was a story. Back when Nirvana was popular in the 90s, Kurt Cobain commented that during one of their concerts, whilst they were playing the song ‘Polly’, a girl was raped by two men. “Knowing that plankton like that was in our audience, I had a hard time continuing.” He was quoted as saying.

That’s the thing. I have been advertised to be one of the most revolutionary artists of our generation, and I appreciate it. Except that I don’t ever want to feel how Kurt Cobain felt upon finding out that people as disgusting as that was in my audience. I want to axe that from the start, and I had expressed this concern with Leonard right from the start. I just hope that the security that he hired would be enough to deter any activity.

 

It might be the exceptions to the rule, but I truly do wish that my fans would be sensible enough.

 

“It went well. Leonard was just telling me how difficult it would be to deter such characters during your concert, love.”

 

“I get that it’s hard, but is it really that impossible to request that I play for an audience without these characters, Uncle Joe?”

 

“Nah, it isn’t. We’ll make sure it won’t happen.”

 

Uncle Joe has been my pseudo manager, mostly just liaising with Leonard, the CEO of the company who publishes and publicises me. Thanks to the surge of popularity in my music, they have been making a true killing with me, and it’s gotten to the point where Aaron and I could afford to buy an expensive house.

 

Aaron walked in with packed bags.

 

“Hey babe.” He kissed me, and set the bags on the floor. Admittedly, we were a bit overpacked. I didn’t want to forget anything, and considering how we would be taking Uncle Leonard’s private jet, it wouldn’t be too much of a problem.

 

Uncle Joe poured a whisky for Aaron.

 

“Well Son, how’ve you been?” Uncle Joe asked politely.

 

“Been fine, Uncle Joe. Some kids at the school got into a fight, so I stayed back a bit extra to give them detention.” Aaron said, sipping on his whisky.

 

“Oh? What was it about?” I asked. Kids fighting at the school was an uncommon sight. They usually seem to be hypnotised by his presence in the first place.

 

Aaron blushed 3 shades redder.

 

“Erm…I have…no idea.” He stuttered out. It was something to do with him, for sure.

 

“OH come now, son. Is it about who you liked more?” Uncle Joe pat his shoulder.

 

Aaron stayed silent for a while. He was still blushing and flushed from embarrassment, for some reason.

 

“Really?” I looked at him incredulously. This was a first. Kids fighting over who got more attention from my husband? I shudder at the prospect of meeting them. How would their reaction be when they met me?

 

“Yeah. I had to call the parents down, because I had no idea how to react.” He said sheepishly.

 

Uncle Joe and I broke out laughing.

 

Aaron continued.

 

“And then, when I told them that the fight started because one of the boys said that Teacher Aaron loved teaching him more than the other boy, they broke out laughing and explained more about it-Turns out that the two boys are best of friends, and they looked up to me as a person.”

 

“But why?” I asked.

 

“Well, because I was apparently someone they looked up to. They think that being a cool teacher, and having a beautiful famous superstar wife was awesome.”

 

I gave him a big smooch.

 

“Well hon, it IS pretty awesome, no?” I asked him.

 

Aaron nodded.

 

“I suppose it is.”

 

“OKAY YOU TWO LOVE BIRDS, get out of my bar!” Uncle Joe shooed us out of the bar.

 

We headed to the airport.

 

__________________________

 

I honestly worry for Andrea. She drives herself so hard to make this concert a success, she’s been missing so many nights of sleep because she keeps wondering if there would be something she would miss out during the concert.

 

Despite repeated reminders from Joe and I that everything was going fine, she would freak out and then go back to the studio to check if there was something missing out in her sound.

She’s been stressing herself so badly, that she’s been complaining of migraines and nausea. I was worried that she might not be able to take the flight, considering how bad nausea can get during takeoff.

 

And sure enough, she had to throw up upon takeoff. Leonard and his bodyguard, William, were accompanying us for the concert, and he was concerned deeply with how she was feeling.

William found some anti-nausea medication that Leonard keeps in the plane, and gave some to Andrea. Since it was drowsy medication, Andrea was asleep next to me.

 

I get that she was a popular artiste, but I was worried for her.

 

“Leonard, level with me here. Have you been stressing Rea out?” I asked Leonard. Leonard shook his head.

 

“I promised you and Joe, Aaron. I haven’t been doing anything of the sort. Apparently, she’s just stressing herself out, and trying to release her next album as quickly as possible, for some reason.”

 

“But why?” I queried. I was truly curious on why she would stress herself out like that.

 

Leonard shrugs.

 

“Between her health and her request for ‘no drugs, alcohol or sex’ during her concert, I’ve not been in much contact with her.” He explains.

 

I guess I understand. Andrea doesn’t exactly have to go to the Green Circle record studios, considering that she felt much more at home in her own studio. She’s always been a private person about her music, and so far, only Uncle Joe and I have ever been to the ReaCave(her name for it, not mine.)

 

“Speaking of which, we wanted to request something of you, Aaron.” Leonard continued talking. He stroked his grey beard, and then smiled.

 

“What is it?”

 

“You know how Andrea keeps insisting on the no drugs, alcohol and sex thing for her concert?”

 

“Yes…?” I wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

 

“We’re wondering if you would go up to stage and announce it, maybe give a speech about it right before the concert starts.” Leonard said, smiling behind his glasses.

 

Interesting proposal.

 

“I wouldn’t exactly mind doing that, but Leonard-Why me?” I questioned. Why me? Why not some famous celebrity that they could hire?

 

“Simple. You’re a popular schoolteacher, and you’ve managed to talk down young preteens from doing stupid things.” He smiles.

 

“Except that this is a rock concert, with more than a few teenagers…how would a middle schoolteacher be able to talk these kids down?” I pointed out again.

 

“You’re also her husband!” He chuckles as he explains the logic. I could see where his logic was going with this, or I think I could. Leonard was a shrewd one. There was just a charisma to the old guy that just transfers well into representing singers and bands.

 

After a bit of explanation, Leonard’s logic was this: If they knew that Andrea had a husband, and that husband was nice enough to announce something like “no drugs” and “no alcohol” to the audience, that would benefit Andrea’s image, as an ordinary girl, married to an ordinary man. There was truly nothing special about us, other than that she loves her music, and that we disapprove of such things.

 

For a record company owner, Leonard was extremely supportive of Andrea’s causes. Fighting against suicide, fighting for LBGT rights. It was doing wonders to her public relations.

 

“Fine, I’ll do it, Leonard.” I smiled. William poured me a whisky, and a brandy for Leonard. He then poured a brandy for himself.

 

We clinked out classes lightly, and started talking about how we wanted to spread Andrea’s message of love. Her message of how to help the people out there that needed it most. It was good company. Andrea and I had made friends with William and Leonard. Leonard has come over for dinner a few times, and because of how William is his bodyguard, we gradually worn away at his “cold and professional” exterior.

Leonard confessed that he hired William because there was a time when he was nearly killed by an assassin hired by an artiste he stopped representing, because of repeated drug usage, and because said artiste was known for abusing cocaine on stage during concerts.

 

“Actually, guys. There’s a reason why Andrea’s been pushing herself so much.” William spoke out, for the first time in the whole flight. He was a quiet person by nature, preferring to only communicate with Leonard for professional reasons.

 

Leonard and I both looked at him. It was rare for William to talk.

 

“It’s a cute little secret that she promised me she’ll tell everyone at the end of the concert.” He continued. “It’s something I promised to not divulge to anyone. She knew that I would find out, considering that I do all her paperwork for her.”

 

“Okay, but is it good news?” I asked. I was honestly quite worried for the reason. I was dreading the news. Was it good? Was it bad?

 

William saw the concern and worry in my eyes. He reached an arm over to pat my shoulder with.

 

“Come on, Aaron. It’s good news. I promise. It’s nothing exactly earth-shattering.” He tries to laugh it off.

 

I guess that was reassuring enough. I glance at Andrea and saw that she was shivering. I reached into one of our luggage bags and pulled out a comforter, and I wrapped her in it.

 

“Thanks hun.” She whispers. She then goes back to sleep.

 

______________________

 

“Hon, wake up.” Aaron gently prodded me awake.

 

We must have arrived at the hotel. I had been asleep most of the journey, ever since the flight. So much so, I was pretty much asleep the whole way through, after taking the anti-nausea medication that William passed to me.

Aaron had to piggyback me into the limousine, and Leonard and William had to help with our luggage.

 

I woke up, and I instantly felt lethargic again. I was like a walking zombie, as the valet helped load our luggage onto one of those cart things.

I was famished beyond belief, and considering what I had just found out about my body recently, I think it best to get some food.

 

William must have cleared the hotel lobby, because there weren’t any crazy fangirls and fanboys following us.

 

Aaron held my hand as we checked into the hotel.

 

“Darl, I’m hungry.” I murmured. Aaron nodded.

 

“We’ll get some room service, alright?” He smiled at me, and he led me to our hotel room. It was an extravagant hotel room, with a comfortable bed and a brilliant space.

Aaron helped to strip me of my clothes, so that I was in my underwear. He had brought along the smallest bag, since the hotel bell boys would be delivering the rest of our luggage. He took out a quick change of clothes, my favourite nightie.

I sleepily changed into it, as he called for room service. I then collapsed onto the bed and closed my eyes. I was half-dead, considering how much work I’m trying to push into my next album, before I have to stop working altogether.

 

“Babe, what do you wanna eat?” Aaron asks me, the phone was still dialing.

 

“Get me something savoury. Anything.” I said softly, in response.

 

After what seemed to be an eternity, room service picked up, and Aaron ordered.

 

“Hi, Room Service? Could we get a steak and ribs in here, with a side of fries?” He ordered my favourite-Steak.

 

He then looked at me, and pushed me into the toilet lightly.

 

“Go wash up, you barfed back in the plane, remember?”

 

Oh yeah, I did. I was still so tired. After brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth out, I crawled back into bed. Aaron dug into his bag for a thermometer.

 

“Why do you keep a thermometer in your travel luggage?” I asked.

 

“Simple you’ve been acting weird the past two weeks, and I figured that you might be sick.”

 

“Mmmm!” I protested as he stuck it under my tongue. I wasn’t technically sick, per say. My temperature would show up as much higher though.

 

He took out the thermometer.

 

“38.2 Degrees.” He whispers. “You’re sick, darling.”

 

“I’m NOT, I just need some rest.” I argued.

 

“Promise me you’ll rest for the next 2 days?” He said.

 

“Fineeeeeee” I said in a bored voice.

 

_________________

 

Of course, getting Andrea to obey me at times like these was clearly futile. She was back on her feet, the next day, and she woke me up, insisting on getting donuts for her stage crew.

 

The stage was fully set up, and she started practicing. It was a few more days to the concert, but she would practice the whole day, and she would come back to the hotel room all tired, grumpy and moody.

I realised that arguing and trying to get her to calm down, or stop going so crazy over practicing was a bit futile. Andrea has always been the type to want to do her best for whatever comes her way, and I guess I can see why she was so worked up the past few weeks-This concert was going to be her first time performing in a live audience of people who absolutely LOVED her music.

 

So, I would start the morning by bringing her to a diner I had visited so many years ago with my family, and we would have breakfast, and then I would drop her off, and see her rehearse her setlist. I would cheer as loud as possible, even though I’ve seen the setlist dozens of times. I would go out to buy her lunch, and also buy some pastries for her crew(she chewed me out on the first day for not buying enough), and then I would stay with her until dinner time.

Leonard and William would never be too far away. William would sneak me a bit of whisky from time to time, after seeing how stressed I was after the first 2 days of preparations. Leonard would hang out with us and laugh in his old man laugh, at how he hasn’t felt this alive about a performance for so long.

 

You know how experienced artists would usually tour the host city for the few days they first arrive? Andrea didn’t do any of that, because she was so concerned with her concert.

 

To the point when I was RELIEVED when it was finally D-Day.

 

I was wearing my usual ‘out of work’ attire, T-Shirt and Jeans, and the walkie-talkie headset. The T-Shirt I chose was that of Andrea’s logo. The logo that Green Circle had started to market. Andrea loved it, as did I. According to the news and the internet though, we got some flak from the Bible Belt, because an ankh was incorporated into the logo. They protested the sale of Andrea’s first album because they were arguing that we supported Satanism.

The whole bunch of us just laughed it off. The ankh was egyptian, not satanic.

“I guess Andrea’s famous now, guys.” Leonard would joke. “We got her hated by the Bible Belt.”

 

People started to pour in, until the concert hall was just brimming with people. It was 10 minutes until the start of the concert. I could hear the band setting up.

 

“Aaron, are you ready?” It was William.

 

“I am” I replied.

 

“Alright, then we’re going to start it rolling.” William said.

 

The spotlight fell onto the centre of the stage, with the microphone. I walked out. There weren’t any cheers for me, though quite understandably. I wasn’t Andrea, afterall!

 

I tapped the microphone a few times.

 

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Aaron, and I’m Andrea’s husband. I just wanted to say thank you for coming down to listen to my wife sing her songs.” I gulped. Talking in front of so many people was NERVE-WRECKING. How does Andrea SING in front of them?

“Now, for the enjoyment of everybody, I just wanted to say, please don’t drink any alcohol, please don’t smoke any weed, and PLEASE do not abuse any drugs whatsoever. Andrea has been working very hard the past week or so, to put on a good show, and she wants to know that this show could be enjoyed by everyone in the audience. She wants to know and make sure that every single one of you are safe in her hands. There will be guards at every section of the audience, so if anyone propositions you for something inappropriate, and you do not feel comfortable, please approach any of them during the concert, and we will make sure that you can continue to enjoy the concert.”

 

I wiped a bit of my sweat off, before continuing. The audience seemed to be listening to me, and I guess that I was glad that I wasn’t being totally ignored.

“I know that you people are aware that Andrea and I have been advocating LBGT rights. We have been advocating anti-rape campaigns, and we’ve participated in Slutwalks in many places. We just want to make the world a better place, and I hope that every one of you understand that it is possible to have fun without alcohol, drugs or any of those substances. You are special, and Andrea and I think that you are. Don’t lose your life to something as meaningless and destructive as addiction.”

 

I was on fire, for some reason. There was just something so exhilarating to speaking to a gigantic audience like this.

 

“I mean, I get that some of Andrea’s songs are rather psychedelic, but she has stated very clearly that she does not wish to be the type of singer whose songs get listened to by stoners who are high. She doesn’t want to sing the next ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’.”

 

The audience laughed.

 

“So, without further ado, I welcome Andrea and the band.”

 

I got a round of applause. It was an interesting experience.

 

Andrea walks in from the side, and there were just roars of approval.

She kissed me full on, before taking to the microphone. There was an insane reaction, with everyone just cheering. It was oddly gratifying to kiss my wife on stage to such an enormous amount of cheering.

 

“Thank you.” She whispered.

 

I retired to the backstage. I was blushing from the experience.

 

William pat me on the back, and Leonard was all smiles.

 

“See, what did I tell ya?” Leonard said, with his cute old-man swagger. He then broke out laughing.

 

“Fair enough, it worked.”

 

______________________

 

A performer lives for the audience. A performer lives to bare his or her soul out to a cheering audience, and a performer lives for the performance.

 

Quite an apt quote.

 

Singing my heart out like that on stage, and seeing people cry and cheer, as and when I sing the appropriate songs, it was something I’ve always enjoyed.

 

“The last song for the night, I want to dedicate to my loving husband, Aaron. Baby, you’re the best hubby anyone could ever have, and I love you.” I said.

For some reason, the audience just kept cheering and cheering. They seemed to have loved that Aaron went up onto stage earlier. I guess that it was going to be good publicity, that my husband was approved by my fanbase?

 

“ _You tuck me into bed as if I were a 5 year old,_

_But that’s okay, because I know_

_You’re worried for me._

 

_You never want to see me sad, and I know that to be true._

_Please continue taking care of me-_

_And our child.”_

 

At this point of the song, everyone started cheering. I continued singing, anyway. I sang my heart out for the audience. It was the best song I’ve ever sang, and I felt it.

At the end of it, I got cheers for an encore, but I seriously couldn’t comply. I was truly tired.

 

“I just wanted to take this time to announce that I will be out of commission, and that I would not be doing concerts or be doing any albums for a good year or so after the release of my next album, “Hope, Change and Life.”, Because my husband and I are pregnant.” I said to the crowd.

 

The crowd was just so filled with love, the started clapping and screaming.

 

It was the best concert I’ve ever given.

 

______________________

 

“Wait, I’M GOING TO BE A FATHER?!” I said excitedly to William.

 

He nodded sagely.

 

“How did you know?!” I asked William.

 

“She had me do her paperwork-and amongst the paperwork, was her medical report.”

 

“How did she keep it from me for so long?” I said.

 

He just winked.

 

Leonard just hugged me.

 

“Congratulations, Aaron.”

 

Andrea walked into the backstage, and I rushed to her. I just kissed her. I couldn’t be trusted to properly frame how much love I had for her right now.

 

“Surprise.” She said happily.

 

I hugged her.

 

I will never let anything happen to her. I swear it.


	14. Life anew.

_Dear Mommy,_

_I miss you! Please come home soon, and put me back to bed. When you are away, Daddy doesn’t shave, and when he kisses me good night, it’s all scratchy. I love you Mommy._

_Don’t tell Daddy I told you, but we’re coming to see you!_

_Love,_

_Olivia._

It’s notes like these that make me miss my daughter so much.

It happened so quickly, so suddenly. A child grows up so quickly, when you’re not properly looking.

4 years ago, my baby girl came into the world, crying, kicking, screaming and very much alive into our lives. She was a healthy baby girl, and we named her Olivia. We had converted a room in our house into a nursery, and she immediately took to it. She was born into a loving family of Aaron, myself and Uncle Joe, who cried with happiness when he first held her. My parents sent me a basket of fruit and flowers, and a heartfelt letter.

I let them meet Olivia, after strong persuasion from Aaron. We decided to bury the hatchet and start anew. It took a while, but we got along.

3 years ago, she’s a year old, and she’s reacting perfectly whenever I serenade her with a gentle strum of my acoustic guitar. She cries at everything, but she just seemed to react well to music. She was starting to crawl and she would cry if Aaron brought her out of the studio when I was playing. She was like my little critic, she was my greatest fan.

She called me Mama, and I would never forget the day that she did. I cried so hard, and I was so happy.

2 years ago, she had already learnt how to walk, and she was a bundle of energy. She would run around with me, and the three of us would play tag with her. She learnt how to string basic sentences, and she would sing along with me whenever I’m at the studio. She loved the ukelele that Uncle Joe gave to her on her birthday, and she cried for ages when one of the strings finally broke, until I fixed it for her.

1 year ago, she was running around with the ukelele, and she had learnt how to play her nursery rhymes on it. I had brought her to one of my concerts, and she loved how I looked on stage. She told me that I looked beautiful, when I was backstage getting myself made up. She kissed me on the cheek before I went onstage, and got some powder on her lips, and she said it tasted ‘icky’ and asked Aaron, ‘Why does Mommy put on icky powder on her face?’. Aaron replied to her, saying that it makes me look pretty. She countered with ‘But Mommy looks beautiful enough already!’.

One of the best ego boosts I can ever get, I got from my daughter.

Sure enough, I tried going on stage without make up at all, and I looked horrendous on camera, because of my sweat. I guess that was why I put powder on for my concerts.

I would bring her along to my concerts, especially if I was going some place she’s never been to before. Aaron couldn’t always come along due to his job, but I usually have Leonard, William or Uncle Joe along with me to babysit her during the concert. Being a mother was much more stressful than running a concert, but she was my little girl.

She asked me. “Mommy, can I ever perform like you?”

I could only smile so brightly at her. I was so proud of her when she first asked me.

“Of course you can, sweetie.”

She smiled back at me sweetly. It was obviously her dream to be like her Mommy.

And when I didn’t bring her along, she would write me a note in pencil. She would write a long(by a 3-year old’s standards) letter to me telling me that she loved me.

Aaron had taught her how to read and write, reflecting his love for the written word.

She was truly the best of the both of us, and I love her more everyday. She’s my little angel, and it pains me when I’m away from her.

48 Hours ago, I told my little girl that she couldn’t come with me to the concert, because Uncle Joe wouldn’t be going. She was surprisingly obedient. We had argued about it before, when she really wanted to go with me. I was surprised at how well she was taking the news. I was dreading telling her that she wasn’t coming with me for this concert.

24 Hours ago, she gave me a letter, and I kept it in my pocket. I gave her and Aaron a kiss goodbye, before William and Leonard drove to meet me, and bring me to the airport.

Aaron slips me an envelope. A letter of his own, for my flight. Like Father like Daughter, they say. I smirked to myself. William and Leonard wonder why my princess wasn’t coming along for the ride. I would tell her that the young lady had to go to preschool.

Aaron carries Olivia, as they both shout goodbye. I look behind to see Aaron let her down, and they walk back to the house, hand in hand. It never gets any easier to leave my family behind for concerts like this.

Aaron would probably get Olivia to brush her teeth, and put on her nightie, and then put her to bed. She would beg for a bedtime story, Aaron would negotiate with her, until they reach a consensus, and he would read her a bedtime story.

2 hours ago, I sigh, in the backstage room. One of the worst parts of being away from my daughter, was that I was terribly bored in the backstage, waiting for the concert to start. I was forced to play with my phone, or to read one of the books or letters that Aaron slips into my handbag.

There wasn’t much of my daughter asking me everything about the world. There wasn’t much of me responding to one of her zany drawings of monsters or angels or devils or whatever she wanted to draw. I was pretty sure she drew a mecha-robotic-angelic-octopus at one point, and we had a laugh about how the robotic parts of the octopus helped it to catch prey to eat.

Then when I posed her a question about why a robotic octopus would need food for, she points out that the mecha-robotic-angelic-octopus ate to be accepted in the community.

There wasn’t someone around to talk to and hug the way Oli does, and I guess I truly missed that part about doing concerts alone with William and Leonard.

_______________________________

“Come on, Oli, we’re going to be late!” I hollered out. I was frantically packing up so that we could catch our flight. We had told Andrea that we would be going to bed, but the plan was to surprise her at the concert. William and Leonard were in on the plan, and Uncle Joe told me that it would be a fun way to spend some alone time with Olivia.

“DADDY, WHERE’S MY BABY GUITAR?” She screams back in reply. Her voice seemed a bit frantic, for some reason. Then again, that ukelele was a gift from Uncle Joe, and it has been her safety blanket of sorts. We had to separate her from it when we first started sending her to preschool.

I had already packed it into the car.

“It’s already in the car, sweetie.” I said.

“Oh.” She walks into the living room with her roll-along mini-luggage bag. I had already packed her clothes in with my luggage. Andrea had insisted on getting Olivia her own luggage bag to teach her independence, and space management. So it was filled with her favourite dolls and toys.

“Are you packed, missy?” I asked her.

“Yeah, Daddy…but I’m a bit hungry.” She groans. She hadn’t eaten much of Andrea’s dinner, because she was feeling excited about the secret that we were keeping from Andrea.

I looked at my watch. We had half an hour to get to the airport.

I dug through the kitchen pantry and found a few snack bars. Andrea had given me explicit instructions not to feed Olivia too many of the snack bars, because it was filled with sugar. I shrugged. My baby was hungry.

I gave her one snack bar, and put 2 more in my pocket.

I rushed her into the car, and we drove to the airport.

We got to the airport in good time, and we managed to check in our luggage on time. I rushed Olivia and we got onto the plane. By this point, she was getting hungry again. I explained to her that the inflight meal will be served soon.

Then by the time the inflight meal was served, she was sleeping soundly, leaning on my arm. My little girl was so zany that way. She was so excited and energetic just a moment ago.

I got the chicken meal, because she didn’t like beef. 15 minutes later, she woke up and complained about being hungry again.

I got the folding table out and let her eat it.

She then asked me for a pencil and a piece of paper. She started drawing and doodling again happily, and it seemed like she was drawing 2 angels of sorts.

“What are you drawing, honey?” I asked her. It was interesting to see her at work on one of her random doodles.

“I’m drawing two angels I saw the other day. They were very pretty, one boy and one girl. They played with my dollies with me, and the boy played a song on my baby guitar.” She said.

Could it be? I was actually oddly comforted. If it were really the two of them, it would mean that they were still watching over Andrea and us.

Our very own guardian angels of sorts.

“Did they have names, sweetie?” I observed her face. She was still concentrated on her drawing. She drew the wings as majestically as she could.

“They said that I could call them Uncle Benjy and Auntie Steph.” She smiled brightly at me. “And Uncle Benjy taught me a song, so I want to play it when I can play it better.”

I don’t know why, but I suddenly teared up a bit. I kissed my little girl on her forehead, then on her cheek.

“DADDY, you know that you’re scratchy. It’s ticklish when you kiss me on the cheek.” She exclaimed. I felt my chin. I guess that I haven’t shaved for 2 days. She went back to her picture, and she asked if I had any crayons or colour pencils. I looked into my bag, and I realised that I forgot.

I asked the stewardess if they had colour pencils or crayons. She passed Olivia a small box of crayons, and she thanked the air stewardess.

“I’m sorry, love.” I said simply. “Oli?”

She was concentrated on colouring the faces of the angels.

“Yes, Daddy?” She looks up. And stops colouring.

“Daddy wants to tell you something, so stop colouring for a second, alright?”

“Alright, Daddy. What is it?” She looks at me with her bright eyes.

“When something in life seems hard, and impossible, I want you to know that you should always stay strong, even when you’re most afraid.” I said to her. I have no idea what possessed me to tell her such a complex moral. She was merely a 4-year old, after all. What good would it do? She had no idea what I was talking about!

“I know, Daddy. Auntie Steph said the same thing. She told me that I should never be afraid of things, I shouldn’t be afraid of trying something new.”

“She did?”

She nods happily at me.

I guess that for some things to start, there truly had to be an end.

She continued to colour her angels and dinosaurs.

_________________________

1 hour ago, my daughter rushed in.

“MOMMY MOMMY!” she squealed with delight. My little angel was here! I hugged her tightly, and let her sit on my lap. She kissed me on my cheek, and instantly spat out again. I had put on make up for my performance today.

“Mommy, why did you put icky powder again??” She said, as if she were disappointed. “You look pretty enough as is.”

“Well, because if Mommy doesn’t put on the powder, I look ugly when the lights shine on me. The camera shows me in a weird light.”

She looks at me skeptically.

“Are you sureeee?” She dragged her sentence, as if I were lying to her.

“Yes, sweetie. It really does. I’ll show you the video again some time, okay?” I said, a tad exasperatedly.

“Alright, Mommy!” She says happily. She then runs off. Probably to find William or Leonard.

Aaron walks in and kisses me.

“Hey, beautiful.” He holds onto me. He kisses me like some spanish matador.

“Hey yourself.” I kissed him back.

“Oli’s with Leonard?” He asked.

I looked at him. I stared at him, actually. This wasn’t something you play around with. You do NOT play with your only child’s whereabouts.

“Didn’t she run past you?” I replied. I was a bit scared.

“No, I thought she came to say hi to you.” He replied. It was clear he was starting to panic.

“She did. Then she ran off.” I said plainly.

“Oh SHIT, did she run off in this place?!” Aaron said.

Uncle Leonard walks in.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. She’s with William, guys. Just get ready for the concert, and your usual introduction, Aaron.” He says plainly. The years have been kind on him. He’s barely aged.

“Oh CHRIST that was scary.” Aaron says. He clutches at his heart. I held onto him quietly.

___________________

“You remember the plan, Uncle Will?” Olivia said into the headset.

“I do, Oli. I just think that you should have told your Mommy or Daddy about it.” William said sheepishly.

“Well, Uncle Leonard said he’ll help us, so it’ll be fine!” Olivia replied in her bubbly voice.

She walks onto stage to gigantic audience.

She brings out her Ukelele, and she starts.

“HI EVERYONE! I’m Olivia, but you can call me Oli!”

Who was this kid? Why was she on stage? The crowd wonders. The crowd cheers anyway, for the little girl who got onto stage.

“I’m 4-years old this year, and I’m here to cheer my Mommy on. My Mommy’s Andrea, and she’s at the back putting on some icky powder on her face. It tastes REAAALLY icky, but she says that it makes her look pretty. But I don’t agree, because she’s beautiful, and she’s pretty because she’s my Mommy.” She says. She showed little to no fear of the crowd, of the audience.

Everyone was clapping and cheering at the guts of a 4-year old.

She started strumming her ukelele.

It was nearly inaudible, to the massive audience. She didn’t care.

Olivia started singing. She started singing her nursery rhymes.

“ _Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,_

_How I wonder what you are._

_Up above the world so high,_

_Like a diamond in the sky,_

_Twinkle Twinkle Little Star_

_How I wonder what you are!”_

The crowd sang along, and the crowd cheered her on. Olivia was hooked. She couldn’t stop, and she loved it all. She loved the feeling of the crowd.

“This next song, is going to be simple. Uncle William said I could only sing two songs, so this one is going to be my second and last one.”

The crowd was cheering and going wild. They were impressed at the guts of Andrea’s daughter. They were impressed at her sheer bravery.

“ _I love you, you love me._

_We’re a happy family._

_With a great big hug and a kiss from me to you,_

_Won’t you say you love me too?”_

She waved goodbye to the crowd, and exited stage left.

“I love everyone, so please take care of yourselves!” She says, as she walks off stage. William takes the microphone off her clothes, and she hugs William.

“Thank you, Uncle William!” She says happily.

_____________________

15 minutes ago, my 4 year old daughter conspired with my manager’s bodyguard to get on stage, and she sang two of the songs she learnt at preschool, and she just gave me a hug after the performance.

…It is clear that my daughter was truly gifted with sheer guts and an insane amount of confidence. My daughter scares the living daylight out of me, some days.

Aaron was on stage to apologise to the audience, but it didn’t seem needed.

“I’m sorry ladies, and gentlemen. I’m Aaron, and that was my daughter. I would usually say something on stage about no drugs, and no alcohol and stuff, except that you’ve already seen my wonderful little angel sing to you about love.

So, without further ado, I would like to invite my wife, Andrea, up to stage. Enjoy the music, everybody!”

It was my turn. Aaron kisses me, and I head out there to rock my crowd.

_______________________

_Dear Andrea,_

_I know that nothing can ever bring back Benjamin, and it is the weight of this stone that your Mother and I will bear for the rest of our lives. I know that you will never find it in yourself to reconcile with us, but we truly do love you and we did love Benjamin._

_We’ve both left our faiths in the Church, because after so many years of picketing, we’ve realised that God would never want us to hate someone as much as we did. After seeing Benjamin die like that in front of our eyes, we’ve finally realised that hate was too strong a power. Too strong and on the wrong side of things._

_I know it’s something small, but we really wish to congratulate Aaron and you on the birth of Olivia. Joe told us about it, and showed us pictures, and I realise that we might never have a chance at reconciliation, but we truly do hope you can forgive us. We can’t just give up on forgiveness, and I won’t stop trying to get your forgiveness, along with your mother._

_Love,_

_Your Father, Richard._

_________________________

So many years ago, I had a best friend named Stephanie. We didn’t talk in a year, and the last time I heard her talk, in the flesh, were the moments before she died. She got me to come close to her, and she whispered words to my ear. She said a single word to me:

“Live”

Of course, we would go on to have numerous more conversations. Eventually, I found out that those conversations were merely with my subconscious, and only 2 of those conversations were really with HER. In doing so, I started to learn and accept, slowly, but surely, the effects of a death. The psychological damage and the path to recovering from said damage from a loved one’s death.

I used to think that the only true way was to live, was to keep choosing the cynical path. I once used to think that all humans were scumbags filled with villainy and bile. I used to shut myself up from everything and everyone, because nothing felt like it was worth my attention. Nothing was worth loving, because eventually, everything would go away.

What was the point of loving something or someone? They’ll eventually break. They’ll eventually go away. They’ll eventually die. That was only logical, wasn’t it?

What was the point of sustaining a relationship with something so impermanent and something so pointless?

That was where I was wrong. In the years following Stephanie’s death, I slowly saw counselors, therapists. I met Andrea, and fell in love again.

I moved on with my life.

I welcomed my daughter, Olivia, into the world.

I want to go back to a time when I could still have spoken to her, or to myself. I want to go back to when I was weak, when I shattered under all that pressure.

I want to sing that song by Garbage, Metal Heart.

_‘I want to be dependable, I want to be courageous and good._

_I want to be faithful so that I can be heroic and true._

_I want to be a friend you can rely on, you can lean on and trust._

_I want to understand so I can forgive and be willing to love.’_

I want to tell myself that I truly did fulfill our own prophecy. We’ve truly become dependable, courageous, and good. We’ve finally become faithful, and heroic and true.

We’ve finally grown into someone that can be relied on, trusted, and leant on.

We’ve finally found a way to forgive, and be willing to love.

I’ve finally grown into someone I was proud to live as. I’ve finally grown into something wise, something more than a weak, cowering, small man.

I’ve finally learnt and understood my own mortality. I’ve finally seen that Death isn’t JUST the end of it all, but also a path to a new Life. It begins with an end. Everything has to start from the end of something else, and that was the circle of life. The never ending cycle.

Olivia comes up to me, and I give her a hug, and I tell her how I would always love her, because she’s my little girl.

I kiss her goodnight, and she tucks herself into bed.

Andrea is already asleep beside me, hogging most of the blanket.

The Key is to not be afraid. When my best friend Stephanie died, a big part of me got ripped out. A gigantic part of me was ripped right out. A bigger part of me was put back in when I found my way out.

A bigger part of me grew out from the pieces remaining, when Andrea found me.

I kissed Andrea on the forehead.

I turned the light off, and I head to sleep.

_______________________

-The End-


End file.
